Life's Record

PASSION WEEK. 739 use. Hence every man should study well this sinless life, not in human commentary only, still less in a bare abstract like the present, but in the living pages of inspiration. Even if he began the study with a lukewarm belief, we might hope, with God's grace, that the conviction would break in upon him that did upon the Centurion at the cross—"Truly this is the Son of God." LIFE'S RECORD. I sat one night in the moonlight, By the window opened wide, Watching the fleecy clouds drift Like foam on the ocean's tide. Lost in thought and awed to silence, I gazed on the shifting scene, And marked the cloud-formed pictures Gilded with the moon's pale sheen. And me thought my own life's story All the hidden, forgotten pa»t, Was written there before me, In cloud, on cloud deep-massed. How I shrank in guilty fear. As the accusing scroll unfurled. And the secrets of my soul were Proclaim'd unto the world! And my eyelids drooped in shame. As my follies one by one. Were traced with relentless pencil All the evil I had done. Then I cried aloud in anguish, "Can guilt so great as mine O! God, claim grace and pardon From Thee, the Power divine?" To Thee alone for comfort Must turn my sin-sick soul. For Thou alone canst save me, And make me clean and whole!

740 IMPROVEMENT ERA. And lo! as again I raised My shrinking eyes to heaven, The gloomy mass of shadows Were as by lightning riven. The fleecy clouds were drifting With a tinge of deeper white, And the brush of the angel artist Seemed bathed in living light. Bright visions of peace and beauty Passed before my wondering eyes, Chasing the gloomy shadows Till Hope lit all the skies. Perchance it was but fancy That conjur'd th' accusing scroll, And reflected upon the clouds The record of my soul. And yet the lesson it teaches Is none the less true and real There's nothing so deeply hidden That God's power can not reveal. Oh! may the same bright spirit That brushed the shades away Yet shine within my heart. Aye, unto the perfect day! That though my sins be scarlet The grace by repentance won May yet make clean Life's Record, Through the blood of Christ the Son. Marvin E. Pack, July, 1898. Salt Lake City.