THE CUP

Dear God, the voice of melody is mute!The brimming cup is drained and empty now.Empty? Of what? Of pride and fears?Of weariness and tears,The selfish joy of locusts' years?

Father, I thank Thee—now I knowMy cup is full. I am Thy likeness still,And see that Love divine can fillWith selfless joy and innate purityMy understanding of reality!

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THE ALL-INCLUSIVENESS OF GOD
October 25, 1952
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