Still There is Love
When human hands cannot afford relief
To hopeless ills and pain beyond belief,
When human hearts are stunned and dumb with grief,
Still there is love.
There was a face we knew, a hand, a form,
where lived a spirit brave and true and warm,
Surely that spirit cannot come to harm,
While there is love.
Its symbols tenderly are laid away,
The face, the hand, the form, we cannot stay.
The spirit still is with us day by day,
And there is love.
We cannot see beyond this Earth's near rim,
but did we know at birth the world we're in?
Then we can trust our future life to him,
For God is love.
poem by Edith Newlin Chase