Poem November 24, 1951 Issue

THE MEEK

Rosemary C. Cobham

Blessed are the meek. They surely move
In quiet service and observant love;
Unhurried, watch the Father's plan unfold.
Tender in comfort, in the battle bold,
Quick in obedience, and to anger slow,
With vision and with confidence they go.

Blessed are the meek. They do not need
The flattery of men whereon to feed.
Their hopes are Godward. Being His reflection
Is their reward and hope and sure protection.
Pride can be hurt, but those who have no pride
In safety and sweet dignity abide.

Blessed are the meek. No inner strife
Weakens or debilitates their life.
The undivided current of their days
Flows out in faithful friendship, prayer, and praise.
In love for God and man their good they seek.
Blessed—oh, how blessed!—are the meek.

Rosemary C. Cobham

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