Mosier Alleuher's great son has shown the beautiful way With light for the living mind of man from the haze of these cloud-strewn days. We shall serve the living God, ministering saints of the air. Or be driven from his beautiful light to the dark'ning realms of despair. The living mind hastens to prepare desperately at the closing our here. Something with which to join the high hosts watching over the earth up there. Behold, I show the great mystery to thee, for the Lord shall make it fair. Ye minds shall soon depart from the earth, to join the Lord in the air. The soul's refuge is found in life that praises here. All glory to the Lord on high who brought great joy and salvation near. Ye thunders in darkness lash with rage, the Lord is not in them found. But in peace with his saints over the beautiful world his spirit is bound. O arise ye hosts of the earth, it's in high praises by thee. That the Lord shall banish the tears of grief from the great human sea. Music and great joy descending from his throne in praises with thee. It's not far from there by the saints of the air to all the souls that be. While the tempest rages wild or the seas roll back from the shore. He will lead his saints through sorrow 'till all their trials are o'er. * * * * * A Meditation--The Shadows Darkness mingles midst the tall green pines that shadow the face of the whole brown earth. Doubt and despair is the fate that we share, all the days of life from the time of one's birth. O, see the pretty moths whose wings have been broken, and they cannot rise with the songs of the breeze. In silence they weep all alone, midst the shadows of the dense dark trees. O, see, the proud souls that weep alone, midst the shadows of the world's despair. Their wings all shrouded with that glory which were theirs, above in the light of the clear bright air. O, see the pretty things that have come from afar; all appareled in the raiments of the homeland gay. Marching in the path of the soul's refining, pretty things which tarry in passing through the shadowed ways. O, look away to the eagle's heights, see the ever green cedars how they cling in every towering ledge. From the tall rocks so white and serene, come stealthily down to the river's edge. O, see, there are enduring souls that never change; who rest secure on higher plains in every clime and age. Along by the rivers and above the shadows in every life that's made, From the tiny urchin to the mighty sage. O, see, there are violets which stand close by the rivers, chaft by the rain and dew. But others are strewn all along upon the mountain sides of blue.