September 22

So will I seek out my sheep, and will deliver them out of all places where they have been scattered in the cloudy and dark day.

BOWING thyself in dust before a Book And thinking the great God is thine alone, O rash iconoclast, thou wilt not brook What gods the heathen carves in wood and stone, As if the Shepherd, who from outer cold Leads all His shivering lambs to one sure fold, Were careful for the fashion of His crook.

There is no broken reed so poor and base, No rush, the bending tilt of swamp-fly blue, But He therewith the ravening wolf can chase, And guide His flock to springs and pastures new; Through ways unlooked for, and through many lands, Far from the rich folds built with human hands, The gracious footprints of His love I trace.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL

THE COMING OF THE KINGDOM