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Sunday, January 22, 2012

Prayer – a poem by H. H. Rycroft

We met, we talk'd, we listen'd, and lo:
God, the Shining One, the Peerless,
Fill'd our souls with love so fearless
That temple walls were cleans'd from sin
And fit for Him to sojourn in.

We sat, we pray'd, we waited, and lo:
God, the Glorious One, the Father,
Came Himself our gifts to gather,
And ev'ry deed our spirits told
Was magnified a thousand-fold.

We stood, we wept, we trembled, and lo:
God, the Mover of creation,
Granted each his proper station,
Appointed each a hidden scar,
The Sacred Wonder of Abhá.
 (Star of the West, vol. 16, no. 5, August 1925)