Poem February 25, 1950 Issue

BARTIMAEUS

Kathrine H. Williams

I hear thy cry across the bewildered years!
Time being the thing it is, I stand with thee;
Thy friends are mine who bid us cease from fears—
The Master calls, he calls to thee, to me!
We are the prisoners of our strange attire,
But cast aside these garments instantly
And with one hope, one beautiful desire,
Turn Christward that our darkened eyes may see.

Dear Bartimaeus, we can now profess
There are no bonds of race or time or space—
Our longing gives us this togetherness;
Its answer holds our hearts in heavenly grace:
Eyes that can see through beauty dimmed and gone
The fadeless noontide, the immortal dawn!

Kathrine H. Williams

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