Poem October 4, 1952 Issue

BOUNDLESS

Elizabeth Glass Barlow

Let the circle of my love
Be so pure, so deep, so wide,
That in its joyous, radiant reach
Nothing shall be left outside.

From smallest treasures, dearly loved,
To worlds which in their orbits rest,
No longer person, place, and thing,
I know all now as Mind expressed.

No fear, no lack, no aching dread,
Remains to chill my soaring hope;
Truth has revealed the compound man,
Including all within Love's scope.

Elizabeth Glass Barlow

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