Oh soldiers of the cross!
Oh young lives spent upon our battlefields,
What is the harvest which your sowing yields?
What shall repair our loss?
Can victory e’er remove
The aching longing for your presence here,
The tears which fall on letters, tokens dear
Left in the hands you love?
“And now he’s dead,” they say?
Ah no! more full of life than e’er before
Since Christ unlocked for him that golden door
Which leads to endless day.
He sees the Lord of Life―
The Lamb of God. Who died, his soul to save,
The Lord of Love, Who heavenly succor gave
All through earth’s deadly strife.
Borne home by angel hands,
And that dear angel who has loved him long,
Set down amidst God’s holy ransomed throng,
Triumphant now he stands.
And waits for us to come —
Yea, for his perfect joy he waits for this —
For even there, there may be fuller bliss
When we are all at Home.
VIOLET E. WILLS.
I feel in these terrible days, with so many dear lives being lost, and so much false doctrine spread abroad, and such total disregard manifested for all we hold sacred, that the need for every man to have the Word of God is of overwhelming importance. We are sending every day as many Testaments as we can to all parts of the world, and we thank God with all our hearts for giving us this work to do for Him, for giving us such loving helpers, and such kind and constant friends. We are sowers together now in these great harvest fields; we sow in tears, but we shall reap in endless joy. You can read the story of our needs at the end of the Magazine.