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Status: Complete

54. (Pen-y-Bryn, con.)

Where heat is fierce, as human hate
The gloats o’er omens of the earth.

The reeling heat waves sear thine eyes,
More ghastly make the mountains bare;
The shimmering wastes of endless sands
Seem hellish in their blinding glare.

Stay close upon thy chosen course
Let not mirages cheat thy sight,
Not turn aside, for hope of ease, -
They perish who see not aright.

Even amid such scenes as these
Thy fate but on thyself depends,
Be constant, dare the desert’s rage
And force its power to serve thy end.”

“By the Trail of the Evening Star”

“Sunset amid lonely mountains,
Tall cliffs in the desert light,
Above the peaks in the heavens,
The plums of approaching night.

I stand subdued in the Presence
That rules in the realm of space,
I seek to follow His guidance,
I long to see His face.

For the soul turns to its Maker,
When far from the haunts of men,
It dreams of the realms whence it came,
And it thinks to return again.

And a ray of hope, eternal!
Burns bright in the human breast,
As the star of evening kindles
Its spark in the flaming West.” By
Wm, Taylor Thom Jr. 1/4/1914

Helen R. Shoemaker interested us in the growing
fellowship between this country and England as
shown recently in placing a memorial to Benj. Franklin
in “The Ladies Chapel”, London, where he once worked as

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