---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Unknown
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 29
number: 2
published: 1925-12
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: "Unknown, “Birthright Royal,” *Improvement Era* 29, no. 2 (December 1925): 144."
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2902unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera2902unse
start_page: 144
end_page: 144
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1925-12)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2902unse
  publication_year: 1925
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1925, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Birthright Royal

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Birthright Royal "The sun was never gold before," I thought — "Pure gold!" Wave-topped, a million diamonds shone; The sheen of grass was like the last soft strains of song That linger hauntingly; Sweet as baby lisping breathed the blossom-laden tree; "O God, who made so fair a world, Surely you made me!" The silence and my reverie were broken by a voice: "I cannot find the bridge-rail; will someone lend a hand?" I turned and saw her sightless eyes: 0 little sister, bent and gray, How bereft your way! She could not see the blossoms, though she breathed their perfume rare: She could not see the sunset, though she felt the soft, warm air; She took my hand and held it till we reached the rail at last, And her fingers ceased to tremble within my steady clasp. 1 wore an Easter bonnet with a rose and frill of lace, But she did not know its freshness, for she could not see my face. "Where thou dwellest, Father, the sun must be of gold" — I thought, When she who could not see the light Had gone upon her way — "Real gold! Brighter far than diamonds Must be thy sparkling wave; The velvet sheen upon thy grass must be of Angel's wings; And the trees must burst with blossoms Where the Master sings!" I cannot see his blossoms, but I feel their perfume rare; I cannot see his sunset, but I sense a radiance there; He takes my hand and holds it when mortal strength is past, And I feel his power sustaining, tangible as human clasp. Lo! though mine eyes are blinded, I feel his majesty; 0 God, who made the sunset's gold, surely you made me! 1 care not how you shaped this flesh, Creator of my race, But I feel you are my Father, though I cannot see your face. Rick's College, Idaho. BLANCH KENDALL McKEY.