Pulpit and Press, by Mary Baker Eddy
Books by Mary Baker Eddy

page 406

         Round our restlessness, His rest.
                              Elizabeth Barrett Browning

   I add on the following page a little poem that I consider
superbly sweet - from my friend, Miss Whiting,
the talented author of "The World Beautiful." - M. B.


ritten for the Traveller]

        The sunset, burning low,
          Throws o'er the Charles its flood of golden light.
        Dimly, as in a dream, I watch the flow
          Of waves of light.

        The splendor of the sky
          Repeats its glory in the river's flow;
        And sculptured angels, on the gray church tower,
          Gaze on the world below.

        Dimly, as in a dream,
          I see the hurrying throng before me pass,
        But 'mid them all I only see one face,
          Under the meadow grass.

PUL 40

        Ah, love!  I only know
          How thoughts of you forever cling to me:
        I wonder how the seasons come and go
          Beyond the sapphire sea?
                                     Lillian Whiting
April 15, 1888

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