'Let Go the Cross'--Gertrude Runshon
I heard a strange voice in the distance calling
As from a star an echo might be falling.
It spoke four syllables, concise and brief,
Charged with a God-sent message of relief:
Let go the cross! Oh, you who cling to sorrow,
Hark to the new command and comfort borrow.
Even as the Master left His cross below
And rose to Paradise, let go, let go.
Forget your wrongs, your troubles and your losses,
For with the tools of thought we build our crosses.
Forget your griefs, all grudges and all fear
And enter Paradise--its gates are near.
Heaven is a realm by loving souls created,
And hell was fashioned by the hearts that hated.
Love, hope and trust; believe all joys are yours,
Life pays the soul whose confidence endures,
The blows of adverse fate, by larger pleasures,
As after storms the soil yields fuller measures.
Let go the cross; roll self--the stone--away
And dwell with Love in Paradise to-day.
Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels by Ella Wheeler Wilcox.
London: Gay & Hancock, 1911.
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