Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred;
Speak, and above earth's loud, unmeaning din
Your silent declarations shall be heard.
All things are possible to God's own kin.



THE TOWER-ROOM



There is a room serene and fair,
All palpitant with light and air;
Free from the dust, world's noise and fuss -
God's Tower-room in each of us.

Oh! many a stair our feet must press,
And climb from self to selflessness,
Before we reach that radiant room
Above the discord and the gloom.

So many, many stairs to climb,
But mount them gently--take your time;
Rise leisurely, nor strive to run -
Not so the mightiest feats are done.

Well doing of the little things:
Repression of the word that stings;
The tempest of the mind made still
By victory of the God-like will.