light you people that is of power.

[Pg 32]

A Meditation—Our Praise

Mosier of the ages hear the children when they cry. Out on the plains they pray. Hold aright the storms that sweep over, bear the tempest far away. The chief of Jehovah's tribune—his hosts above the azure lights of gray. His spirit searches over the plains through all the souls of day.

We have a refuge in the light of the first morning, made brighter by the noon. Unfolding from Zion's harbor unto all the saints upon the spectered earth is strewn. Jehovah's gift descending through the gloom. A great rock that was cut out above the earth, but not with hands was hewn.

Then by the river of Zion all his saints shall meet once more. The angels in their salvation shall set his children then before. When the king descends to welcome his hosts upon that living shore, in one speech all voices of earth his high praises shall sing while crossing over.

This is when the afterwhile has become the present, and the day to come is just now. When those who hasten to be saved before his throne they bow. The tears of grief shall be no more for ever. The call comes forth to know just how. You saints shall answer with the light of life sealed on every ransomed brow.

[Pg 33]

[Pg 33]

A Praise—A Charge to The Spirits

Blow! O blow on the rocks of time you silent winds divine. Glitter on the mountain heights you rifting specters bright. Marching on you hosts of the senless quite. Out in that day of every soul that's neither dark or light.

Know you your place and name and who it is you be. It is the hand of a higher one leads thee through eternity. A price was paid, its value true, back in the ages one day; as onward through the shadows gleam the vampires wing their way.

The tiny feet disturb not the dewdrops, as on the rose of Sharrion's breast they lie. You lights upon the stillness, you unseen passers by. How old are you thou tiny might that never has been still? Before the mountains were brought forth or the sands were in the hills.

With you let not sorrow, grief or pain, as in your house of clay which you oft regain. It is not 

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