Poems by Ruth Bell Graham

Look o’er the fields about you —
riveted, hilled with graves;
no one can count the number
of those who perished as slaves;
slaves to the sin they were born in,
knowing not God or His Light;
died without God’s great salvation,
died in the darkness of night.

Look o’er the people about you —
faces so furrowed with care,
lined and hardened by sorrow
sin has placed on them there;
think of the evil they live in,
hopes none and joys so few;
love them, pray for them, win them,
lest they should perish, too.


Like a shadow declining
swiftly away. . . away. . .
like the dew of the morning
gone with the heat of the day;
like the wind in the treetops,
like a wave of the sea,
so are our lives on earth when seen
in light of eternity.


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