When my heart is dreary
Then my soul is weary
As a bird with a broken wing
Who never again will sing
Like the sound of a vast amen
That comes from a church of men.
When my soul is dreary
It could never be cheery
But I think of myideal
And everything seems real
Like the sound of the bright church bells peal.
Poems by Florence Atwater will be in the paper each and every Sat.