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THE POET PRAYS
Set my lines to song, dear Lord;
Give them resonance and beauty.
Let them image forth Your Word,
Teaching men the joy of duty.
Scan the syllables with love;
Fit them to Your perfect meter.
Let them tell of things above,
Make the poem purer, sweeter.
Words are meant to sing for You,
Healing hearts of fear and sadness.
Let my song be faithful, true,
Filled with comfort and with gladness.
Max Dunaway
Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.
June 10, 1967 issue
View Issue-
Do We Need Money?
RICHARD H. STRAIN
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"Before they call, I will answer"
ROSE L. KEMPTHORNE
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Meeting Evil Instantly
JEAN LUCE LEE
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"I cannot come down"
W. RALPH ROCKHOLD
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The Crowing Cockerel
SUSAN BARRETT KUPPER
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"Unselfish ambition, noble life-motives"
CHRISTINE McMICKING
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COMPLETE
Vera Sohr Kelly
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To Start Again
Helen Wood Bauman
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Demonstrating Life
William Milford Correll
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THE POET PRAYS
Max Dunaway
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I am grateful to have had many proofs of God's goodness and...
Watson Greenfield
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"When the enemy shall come in like a flood, the Spirit of the...
Doris M. Redgrove
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I am most grateful for the effective healing power of Christian Science...
June Patterson Goodwin
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Christian Science came into my life when I was three and went...
Marie Diane Oleson
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One Sunday morning I was hurrying in order not to be late for...
Florence E. Stark