The dying hermit grasped my hand;
Turned burning eyes to mine:
“No sorrow feel, my lad, for me;
None are, who’ll miss, or pine.
“My life’s been lonely? Aye, that’s true,
If just of men we speak:
But God has much to offer those
Who help of Him would seek.
“I’ve talked with Him–I’ll live with Him,
Now that it’s time to go;
Lean closer now, my boy, and I’ll–
I’ll tell you why I KNOW!
“You’ve heard how travel-weary one
Be guided by a light
In window placed by anxious folk,
To lead him home aright?
“Our Father, Lord of Heav’n and earth,
Knows I no longer roam–
The Lamp of God tonight will light
This weary traveller Home.”
…….
I closer to the window moved,
In wonder, and I spied
The cause for his transfigured face,
The instant ere he died.
One lonely.star shone through the haze
Of cloudy, troubled sky;
One flick’ring beacon, there for him–
He did not fear to die!
Down seemed to float the hermit’s voice,
But strong, with new-found vim:
“God’s Light will someday justify
The Faith we have in Him!”
by Ray Romine Saturday, November 14, 1942