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Teach me to Conquer Discord by holding close my own Harmony.
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I care not if the shell-fire of trials whistle around me. And I
take no notice of salvo-shots launched in my honor. I mind not if
machine-guns of mischief pour their shot at me; for when Thou art
with me I am safe behind ramparts of liquid fire; but without Thee,
I am unsafe even in the most impregnable fort of modern science.
I seek not to rouse the wrath of others and awaken their fiery tempers,
but I thank Thee for Thy rock-of-refuge in the hidden recess of
my soul.
Bless me that I may heal the shrapnel wounds of inharmony in the
flesh of circumstances.
Teach me to dethrone darkness by Thy triumphal coronation, O King
Light.
Bless me, that I may be the salve of smiles to melancholy souls;
the soothing shower to arid minds; the sentry of light, chasing
away the thief of gloom; the nectar of peace to sorrow-parched hearts;
the glow of kindness to dispel black cruelty.
Teach me to conquer discord by my octopus-grip on my own harmony.
By sincerity, teach me to conquer insincerity. Bless me, that I
may overcome the habit of idle criticism of others by censuring
myself instead.
And teach me to give the nectar-opiate of Thy peace to groaning
minds, that they may rest in Thee.
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