The Witness
By Walter W. Morrison
Hollywood, Calif.
More sure than what I see or hear or measure,
Is the spirit’s witness to the truth revealed –
More precious far than any earthly treasure,
Are the covenants by keys of Priesthood sealed.
The perfect guide, through life to point the way,
Is freely given to each repentant soul;
It fills with purpose our beclouded day,
Disclosing whence we came and what our goal.
The great Archangel came, with glorious Eve,
And ate the fruit which genders mortal flesh.
That waiting spirits might new powers achieve
And here pursue their destiny afresh.
We walk by faith and, using, gain its power;
And here we learn by contrast wrong from right;
We add the body to the spirit’s dower
And train its strong desires with growing might.
This life’s a test – a time of quick unfolding –
In which we make or mar our destiny, –
Creative urge and new-found freedom holding –
Our adolescence in eternity.
Lest death our hopes destroy, with love divine
Our loving Father sent his first-born Son
To bear the shame and guilt that’s yours and mine –
And cleansed, each temple from its grave is won!
As a mother knows, when joy her heart has filled,
That she loves her babe close-folded to her breast,
So I know when my soul’s illumed and thrilled,
That prophets speak the truth at God’s behest.
(1927)
I like when you post poetry, especially good, old-fashioned poetry with discernible rhyme and meter. Thank you.
HokieKate, this one was written by a man born in rural Utah to parents who immigrated from Scotland; he did a little school teaching in his early adulthood, then worked at other jobs (postmaster, clerk for the railroad) that suggest some degree of bookishness without necessarily furnishing an intellectually rewarding atmosphere; and was the father of seven, most of whom had grown and left home by the time this poem was published. It’s all in my head, of course, but I imagine him working nights on poetry like this, nurturing a longing for artistry that satisfied his religious feelings as well as for beauty. I also imagine he would be surprised and pleased to know that you enjoyed his words 90 years later.
I enjoy it too. I hope he knows that.