Poem September 26, 1953 Issue

GOD'S DAY

Edgar Isaac Newgass

This is God's day, each moment of it His,
And as we turn to Him in gratitude
For this, how surely evil yields to good,
For good is all that is.

This is Love's day,
And Love remains
Unlabored, tender, gay.
Love reigns
Supreme; there is none else.
What harm can then befall
The one who dwells
In ever-present Love, when Love is all?

This is Mind's day,
And Mind directs
Throughout the way.
Intelligence perfects
Its own, and so we find
For every want
An all-sufficient font
Of right ideas at hand, for all is Mind.

How reverently should we greet
Today as under the control
Of Principle, of Spirit, Soul,
Whose handiwork remains complete.
And as we make our own the fact
Of man eternally intact
So are we freed
From error's thralldom and can say,
With growing certitude, "This is indeed
God's day."

Edgar Isaac Newgass

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