Stately and high;
The little men climb the low clay wall
To gape and spy;
"We wait for the Gods," the little men cry,
"But these are our brothers passing by."

The great Gods pass through the great Time-hall;
Who can see?
The little men nod by the low clay wall,
So tired they be;
'"Tis weary waiting for Gods," they yawn,
"There's a world o' men, but the Gods are gone."

--A.H. Begbie.

But their eyes were holden that they should not know him.

--Luke 24. 16.

My Father, may I be careful of getting weary and missing the best
through the need of rest. Intensify my desire for the songs and
glorious ways, that I may not settle into dullness and slumber, while
others pass on in the light. I pray for a keener sense of the
possessions made possible by the deeds and cares of noble men and
women. Amen.




JANUARY TWENTY-FIFTH