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A CRESCENT MOON AND A CRADLED STAR
There's a crescent moon and a cradled star
And a sense of the beautiful things that are
Where the golden crest of a cloud swings high
In the lonely west of an amber sky.
There is fatherhood and the flowing stream
Of a mother's urge and a mother's dream.
There's a love for home and the kindly ways
Of a hearth that burns with a cheerful blaze.
There is truth that tramps with a mighty tread
Where the martyrs lie with the living dead;
There's a dream of dawn that will lift its soul
To the lofty trails where the planets roll.
There's a Christ who lived and died that we
Might dare all death and tragedy,
And a Christ who rose that the world might know
That the tides of time have ebb and flow.
That the tides of time and the streams of truth
Are the tides of dawn and the dreams of youth;
That the winter goes and the spring draws near
In the flow and the flood of the tidal year.
There is Jesus Christ and a rough-hewn cross
And a glimpse of the poor world's greatest loss;
There's a crescent moon and a cradled star
And a sense of the beautiful things that are.
[Poem included in I Saw God Wash The World, 1934.]
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