JAMES MITCHEL ROGERS

While face to face with him I plainly feel A something in my heart and open mind That prompts an eager search, perchance to find The unknown source of such a strong appeal. A rip’ning fruit, I ask, of earth’s ideal? Or full blown rose, to all its beauty blind? Or tree of life within the mad mart’s grind— Oh what o’er me in power doth sweetly steal? In truth his inmost soul is full of light, A shining constant from afar, yet bright, An humble, potent life not his nor man’s, Increasing gently through his crowning years, And freeing him from all the sinner’s fears— Ah yes, he’s one of God’s unthwarted plans.