The tissue of the Life to be we weave with colors all our own, And in the field of Destiny we reap as we have sown.
The tissue of the Life to be we weave with colors all our own, And in the field of Destiny we reap as we have sown.
From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds.
O Time and change -- with hair as gray as was my sire's that winter day, how strange it seems, with so much gone of life and love, to still live on
We live by faith but Faith is not the slave Of text and legend. Reasons voice and Gods, Natures and Dutys, never are at odds. What asks our Father of His children, save Justice and mercy and humility, A reasonable service of good deeds, Pure living, tenderness to human needs, Reverence and trust, and prayer for light to see The Masters footprints in our daily ways No knotted scourge nor sacrificial knife, But the calm beauty of an ordered life Whose very breathing is unworded praise A life that stands as all true lives have stood Firm-rooted in the faith that God is Good.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories