Ednah Dow Littlehale Cheney (1824–1904)

The question was asked, “To Whom do Free Religionists pray?” The reply was, “To Whomsoever they believe will help them.”

WHATE’ER the Name, whate’er the Power,

That helped me in my bitter hour,

I know there came a Strength not mine,

A peace not earthly, but Divine.

That peace, that strength, I know it waits

For every heart that opes its gates,

To let the Gracious Presence in;

And with its help new life begin.

So waits the morning in the skies,

Until the sleeper opes his eyes;

So breaks the Sea on every shore,

The sick and weary to restore.

Each lovely flower, each busy bee,

Says, “Only come, I ’ll give to thee;”

The North Star waited, æons back,

To guide the slave on freedom’s track.

Each hero soul, each martyr heart,

In thy deep pain has borne its part;

And every triumph in the skies

Has helped my unfledged soul to rise.

The Over-soul, the All, the Law,

The God whom mortal eyes ne’er saw,

And yet whose presence all things knew,

’T was that helped me and will help you.