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- New Thought Pastels - 3/4 -

There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light burning.


The leaf that ripens only in the sun Is dull and shrivelled ere its race is run. The leaf that makes a carnival of death Must tremble first before the north wind's breath.

The life that neither grief nor burden knows Is dwarfed in sympathy before its close. The life that grows majestic with the years Must taste the bitter tonic found in tears.


Fear is the twin of Faith's sworn foe, Distrust. If one breaks in your heart the other must.

Fear is the open enemy of Good. It means the God in man misunderstood.

Who walks with Fear adown life's road will meet His boon companions, Failure and Defeat.

But look the bully boldly in the eyes, With mien undaunted, and he turns and flies.


Between the finite and the infinite The missing link of Love has left a void. Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will join In one continued chain of endless life.

Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven Is Love's location. No dogmatic creed, No austere faith based on ignoble fear Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace. Unless the humblest creatures on the earth Are bettered by thy loving sympathy Think not to find a Paradise beyond.

There is no sudden entrance into Heaven. Slow is the ascent by the path of Love.


I value more than I despise My tendency to sin, Because it helps me sympathise With all my tempted kin.

He who has nothing in his soul That links him to the sod, Knows not that joy of self-control Which lifts him up to God.

And I am glad my heart can say, When others trip and fall (Although I safely passed that way), 'I understand it all.'


There was a thought he hid from all men's eyes, And by his prudent life and deeds of worth He left a goodly record upon earth As one both pure and wise.

But when he reached a dark unsightly door Beyond the grave, there stood his secret thought. It was the mansion he had built and brought To dwell in, on that shore.


An unkind tale was whispered in his ear. He paused to hear. His thoughts were food that helped a falsehood thrive, And keep alive.

Years dawned and died. One day by venom's tongue His name was stung. He cried aloud, nor dreamed the lie was spawn Of thoughts long gone.

Each mental wave we send out from the mind, Or base, or kind, Completes its circuit, then with added force Seeks its own source.


Know this, ye restless denizens of earth, Know this, ye seekers after joy and mirth, Three things there are, eternal in their worth.

Love, that outreaches to the humblest things; Work that is glad, in what it does and brings; And faith that soars upon unwearied wings.

Divine the Powers that on this trio wait. Supreme their conquest, over Time and Fate. Love, Work, and Faith--these three alone are great.


'The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way; a lion is in the street.'--PROVERBS xxvi. 13.

There are no lions in the street; No lions in the way. Go seek the goal, thou slothful soul, Awake, awake, I say.

Thou dost but dream of obstacles; In God's great lexicon, That word illstarred, no page has marred; Press on, I say, press on.

Nothing can keep thee from thine own But thine own slothful mind. To one who knocks, each door unlocks; And he who seeks, shall find.


Lean on thyself until thy strength is tried; Then ask God's help; it will not be denied.

Use thine own sight to see the way to go; When darkness falls ask God the path to show.

Think for thyself and reason out thy plan; God has His work and thou hast thine, oh, man.

Exert thy will and use it for control; God gave thee jurisdiction of thy soul.

All thine immortal powers bring into play; Think, act, strive, reason, then look up and pray.


Who climbs the mountain does not always climb. The winding road slants downward many a time; Yet each descent is higher than the last. Has thy path fallen? That will soon be past. Beyond the curve the way leads up and on. Think not thy goal forever lost or gone. Keep moving forward; if thine aim is right Thou canst not miss the shining mountain height. Who would attain to summits still and fair, Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.

'THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE ARE NO DEAD' (Suggested by the book of Mr. Ed. C. Randall.)

New Thought Pastels - 3/4

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