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Unseen


A dark old woman with weary feet
Struggled up the city street.


Weak and worn, but with heavenly look,
She clasped in her hand the Holy Book.


No one saw that the light in her eyes
Were angels' smiles from paradise.


No one helped her on her way,---
They were hurrying on to pray.


No one saw her drink the gall;
No one saw her gasp and fall.


She had climbed the mighty hill;
But no one knew her lips were still.

Written by Gertrude P. McBrown (1898-1989)

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