p. 3 | AT PRAYER-MEETING by Margaret E. Sangster

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · May 17, 1899

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 25, No. 20.

AT PRAYER-MEETING.

By Margaret E. Sangster

THERE were only two or three of us Who came to the place of prayer— Came in the teeth of a driving storm; But for that we did not care, Since after our hymns of praise had risen, And our earnest prayers were said, The Master Himself was present there, And gave us the living bread.

We knew His look on our leader's face, So rapt and glad and free; We felt His touch when our heads were bowed; We heard His, "Come to Me." Nobody saw Him lift the latch, And none unbarred the door, But "peace" was His token to every heart, And how could we ask for more?

Each of us felt the load of sin From the weary shoulder fall; Each of us dropped the load of care, And the grief that was like a pall; And over our spirits a blessed calm Swept in from the jasper sea, And strength was ours for toil and strife In the days that were thence to be.

It was only a handful gathered in To the little place of prayer; Outside were struggle and pain and sin, But the Lord Himself was there; He came to redeem the pledge He gave— Wherever His loved ones be To stand Himself in the midst of them, Tho they count but two or three.

And forth we fared in the bitter rain, And our hearts had grown so warm It seemed like the pelting of summer flowers And not the crash of a storm; " 'Twas a time of the dearest privilege Of the Lord's right hand," we said, As we thought how Jesus Himself had come To feed us with living bread. —Margaret E. Sangster.