The days are short, the nights are long; His sheep are wandering far afield—He gave His life—canst Thou not speak? Wondrous the power of love revealed!
The days are short, the nights are long; But shortest day may well suffice—God working with us—to restore A soul to Him Who paid its price.
The days are short, the nights are long: But longest night made bright by Him,Only reveals His power to fill Our cup with joy up to the brim.
The days are short, the nights are long; Most loving Bridegroom! still increaseBy night and day my love that waits To welcome Thee when Time shall cease.
Advent, 1914.
THE WHITSUN GIFT.
My Father, yesterday I visitedA worldly Church, where neither middle classNor poor can find a welcome and a home.Today a letter comes, brim full of zealAnd faith in Christian Science giving factsWithin the writer's own experienceThat cannot be gainsaid, nor seeminglyExplained, except as proving God's own sealOf fruits—His blessing on the means employed.And everywhere I find these sealing fruits,And my poor mind is fain to ask the standThat Christ would have me take in things of faith,To give an answer clear to him who asks.
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