Poem December 31, 1949 Issue

SOUL—FILLED YEARS

Maurine Hathaway

Of old I reckoned time by calendars
That marked each fleeting day and month and year;
I laid out tasks to crowd the hurried hours
And noted hindrances with haunting tear.

"There is too much to do." I would lament;
"Too many duties wait on every hand!
How vain to hope for their accomplishment
With such a little time at my command!"

Then swift the answer came: '"A thousand years
Are with the Father as a single day;
Eternity is now, for heaven is here,
And life is but unfoldment. Know and pray!"

So now I check my haste and add with care
Some gem of wisdom, daily, to my store.
God 's temple will be firm, complete, and fair
When this brief sense of time shall be no more.

Maurine Hathaway

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