Love Gifts by Helen Steiner Rice Read Free Book Online Page A

laughter, the good and the bad
    Can add new dimensions and lift love above
    The rapturous ecstasies of falling in love …
    For ecstasy passes, but it is replaced
    By something much greater that cannot be defaced,
    For what was in part has now become whole,
    For on the wings of the flesh, love entered the soul.

W İTH G OD AS Y OUR P ARTNER

    It takes a groom, it takes a bride–
    Two people standing side by side.
    It takes a ring and vows that say
    This is our happy wedding day …
    But wedding vows are sanctified
    And loving hearts are unified
    When standing with the bride and groom,
    Unseen by others in the room,
    The spirit of the Lord is there
    To bless this happy bridal pair …
    For God is love, and married life
    Is richer for both man and wife
    When God becomes a partner, too,
    In everything they plan and do …
    And every home is specially blessed
    When God is made a daily guest …
    For married folks who pray together
    Are happy folks who stay together,
    For when God’s love becomes a part
    Of body, mind, and soul and heart,
    Their love becomes a wondrous blending
    That’s both eternal and unending–
    And God looks down and says, “Well done,”
    For now you two are truly one.

T HE W ORLD W OULD
B E A N İCER P LACE İF W E
T RAVELED AT A S LOWER P ACE

    Amid stresses and strain, much too many to mention,
    And pressure-packed days filled
    with turmoil and tension,
    We seldom have time to be friendly or kind,
    For we’re harassed and hurried and always behind …
    And while we’ve more gadgets and buttons to press
    Making leisure time greater and laboring less
    And our standards of living they claim have improved
    And repressed inhibitions have been freed and removed,
    It seems all this progress and growth are for naught,
    For daily we see a world more distraught …
    So what does it matter if man reaches his goal
    And gains the whole world but loses his soul?
    For what have we won if in gaining this end
    We’ve been much too busy to be kind to a friend?
    And what is there left to make the heart sing
    When life is a cold and mechanical thing?
    And are we but puppets of controlled automation
    Instead of joint heirs to God’s gift of creation?

S LOWİNG D OWN

    My days are so crowded and my hours so few
    And I can no longer work fast like I used to do.
    But I know I must learn to be satisfied,
    That God has not completely denied
    The joy of working—at a much slower pace—
    For as long as He gives me a little place
    To work with Him in His vineyard of love,
    Just to know that He’s helping me from above
    Gives me strength to meet each day
    As I travel along life’s changing way.

D İSCOURAGEMENT AND D REAMS

    So many things in the line of duty
    Drain us of effort and leave us no beauty,
    And the dust of the soul grows thick and unswept,
    The spirit is drenched in tears unwept.
    But just as we fall beside the road,
    Discouraged with life and bowed down with our load,
    We lift our eyes, and what seemed a dead end
    Is the street of dreams where we meet a friend.

M Y G OD I S N O S TRANGER
    God is no stranger in a faraway place
    He’s as close as the wind that blows ‘cross my face.
    It’s true I can’t see the wind as it blows,
    But I feel it around me and my heart surely knows
    That God’s mighty hand can be felt everywhere,
    For there’s nothing on earth that is not in God’s care.
    The sky and the stars, the waves and the sea,
    The dew on the grass, the leaves on a tree
    Are constant reminders of God and His nearness
    Proclaiming His presence with crystal-like clearness.
    So how could I think God was far, far away
    When I feel Him beside me every hour of the day?
    And I’ve plenty of reasons to know God’s my friend,
    And this is one friendship that time cannot end.

T HE A UTUMN OF L İFE

    What a wonderful time is life’s autumn,
    when the leaves of the trees are all gold,
    When God fills each day as He sends
    it with memories, priceless and old.
    What a treasure-house filled with rare