. The hope of the world and other poems. Of our inventions, which do war with faith,A bridge that leadeth to Gods mercy seat. God is the sun, the warmth, the wonder and the might,The perfect morning after darkest niglit,A song of joy after a dirge of ] heart beat in a bosom that is light. Gods angels are His thoughts, that day and uiglitWatch over us, upholding truth and right;Swifter they are than anything we worhls to them are as a feather light. Wlien Goil of old revealed to man His might,His face was always iiidden from their sight,Lest they that saw through seeing might l
. The hope of the world and other poems. Of our inventions, which do war with faith,A bridge that leadeth to Gods mercy seat. God is the sun, the warmth, the wonder and the might,The perfect morning after darkest niglit,A song of joy after a dirge of ] heart beat in a bosom that is light. Gods angels are His thoughts, that day and uiglitWatch over us, upholding truth and right;Swifter they are than anything we worhls to them are as a feather light. Wlien Goil of old revealed to man His might,His face was always iiidden from their sight,Lest they that saw through seeing might lose as the sun absorI)s all lesser light. 46 THE HOPE OF THE WORLD AND OTHER POEMS. We cannot stray beyond our Shepherds keep,Out of the pastures where He feeds His sheep;All tlirough this life we feel the gentle crook,And then at last God smiles when mortals weep. Over the frozen earth God lays His hands,And it is Spring, all nature understandsThe touch divine, and all the earth is gladEen to the smallest grain of oceans ALL NATURE UNDERSTANDS THE TOUCH DIVINE. THE HOPE OF THE WORLD AND OTHER TOEMS. 4 Hope rules the world when Spring comes back are forgotten in the April rain,Joy fills the cup unto the bubbling brim,For love is written in the field and lane. Hymns in the woods and iinthcnis by the sea,Singing afield and warbling on the lea,Chonis of wind and solo of the rill,0, wondrous strains of natures rhapsody! Soul of the mountain, soid of the monarch of earth that wanders with the of the torrent pulsing Avild and si)irits brave are kindred unto mine. A pleasant thougiit that when this body goesBack to its native earth, perhaps a roseMay blossom from the dust that it is made,And some sick child may hold it to his nose. The wind, the rain, the sunshine, and the dew,^Vll heljD to bring the flowers to me and you,And so in life the mingled good and illShall teach us truth, and make our hearts more true. There is a
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