Atlanta tri-weekly journal. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1920-19??, 1923-12-25
ITEMS IA Fol

Though thorny the pathway meath our feet,
Though nothing in life be left that's sweet;
Though friends prove faithless in trials
hour,
And love a curst and poisonous flower;
Though Belial stalk in Priestly gown
And virtues reward is Fortunes frown;
Though true hearts bleed and the coward
slave
Tramples in dust the fallen brave;
Think not the unworthy acts Of men
Will 'scape the recording angels pen;
The sword of God, in ruin and wrath,
Will surely fall! Oh, cling to thy faith!
Though worldly wise say it cannot be
That there's a heaven for you and me;
Though logic's banner they have unfurled
And by it's cold light now view the world
Calling high God to the courts Of man
To be judged by human reasons span,
And failing to grasp the power divine
Will bIindly assert: cit doth not 4hine";
Thy mother was wiser far than they
In twilight hour when she knelt to pray,
From eternal Gods high dwelling place.
A radiant light on her sweet face
10 here! 10 here tn false prophets cry,
Far pleasanter than our fathers trod
With bleeding feet in the fear of God;
While Atheists laugh our faith to scorn,
And say that no man Of woman born
Ever pierced the veil or caught CLEAN
Of the mystic land beyond life's stream;
That our fondest hopes, our prayers and
signs
For life eternal beyond the skies,
Are superstitons conceived in fear
And cherished by priest and lying seer.
The martyrs blood, the penitents tears,
The inspired word of Judea's seers,
The name Of God on the sacred mount,
The river that poured from rocky fount
In the burning sands beneath the rod,
Obedient to the will of God;
The prayers and signs in Gethsemane,
The red light gushing on Calvary,
The radiant smile when life is done
Of saint that tells that heaven is won
Shall we say it's all priestly lie
And like soulless beast lie down to die?
All, better 'twould be to ride in mail
A weary quest for the holy grail;
Weld Saxon steel 'gainste saracen sword
Around the Sepulcher of our Lard;
See Cross and Crescent and mailed hand
All FLASHED with blood in that sacred land
Than doubt that heaven e'er shed its light
| Deep into this worlds long troublous night
That God hears our prayers, knows all our
| pains,
That earthly sorrows are heavenly gains,
That the graves the gate to life,
Unsullied by sorrow pain and strife.
Oh, better worship at pagan shrine;
Or, prophet of Islam, cen at thine;
| To seek Nirvana in Buddhist lore,
| Or pray to Isis on Afric's shore;
Better the dark, mysterious rites
Of Ceres on Elysian heights
Better the Gueber's fierce God of fire
| Oh, better to wake the trembling Tyre
| To any Savior than be hurled
| Goddess and hopeless out of the world;
| To mad1y plunge in deaths dark river,
Lost to life and heaven forever.
! In dark seas where the whirlpool RACES
Stands the eternal rock of ages;
Amid dangers dire, mid wreck and wrath
| God plants the banner of Christian faith.
| Unworthy the sailor whose heart doth fail,
Coward the soldier who shuns the grave,
And thrice accursed the trembling slave
Who in life's battles darkest hour
| Renounces God and denies his power.
/ Then ITEMS ia Fol through the bitter strife!
O, cling to the cross through death to life!
What does ITEMS Ia Fol" mean?
Keep thy faith"