Let us then labor for an inward stillness,
An inward stillness and an inward healing.
That perfect silence where the lips and heart
Are still, and we no longer entertain
Our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,
But God alone speaks in us, and we wait
in singleness of heart, that we may know
God's will and, in the silence of our spirits,
That we may do God's will, and do that only!
Myriad openings lead to it.
In passing from darkness to light,
One moves freely between eternity
and now.
If this be but true,
I have no fear.
Yet myriad seem the hazards
of the journey.