Poem July 23, 1949 Issue

HE PURGETH IT

Kathryn Shawn

Is it for this I am wounded?
Shall the tears that I will not let fall
Water the fallow fields of my soul?

The lilac is grown so tall
Because of the dark trees that hedged her in
And shut her away from the sun;
Yet high in her topmost branches,
Proof of her victory won,
She bears him her lovely oblation.

So, Father, Thy way I seek
To bow in sweet submission,
To pray, "Thy will be done,"
To know Thy will is my only law—
My Father and I are one.
This be my constant purpose
Wherever my course may run.

Kathryn Shawn

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