Satisfied

It matters not what be thy lot, So Love doth guide; For storm or shine, pure peace is thine, Whate'er betide.

And of these stones, or tyrants' thrones, God able is To raise up seed--in thought and deed-- To faithful His.

Aye, darkling sense, arise, go hence! Our God is good. False fears are foes--truth tatters those, When understood.

Love looseth thee, and lifteth me, Ayont hate's thrall: There Life is light, and wisdom might, And God is All.

The centuries break, the earth-bound wake, God's glorified! Who doth His will--His likeness still-- Is satisfied.

Pleasant View, Concord, N. H., January, 1900.