The Making of The Beautiful

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CONTENT A Foreword 5 The Foregleam… 7 "The Making of the Beautiful” 8 A Prose Picture of a Poet 11 The Life in Allegory 12 A Christmas Eve Baby 19 School Days 22 Characteristics 30 Mixing the Bitter and Sweet 32 Pressed Into Poetry and Print 35 The Poetical Theologian 43 Songs of Comfort 53 Sunset and Eventide 61 Poems by Annie Johnson Flint 68 Page 4 of 125
A Foreword If you ever had the privilege of calling upon Annie Johnson Flint, you have not forgotten her hands. Anyone who ever saw them, and who had read any of her poems in manuscript, must have marveled at the clear and beautiful writing which her painfully distorted hands were able to produce. Those instruments of expression which most of us can use so freely, were carefully trained to do their manual work with fine restraint and regularity, and perfect legibility. But this ability to use her physical disabilities far more blessedly than so many of us use our abilities, was seen typically. but not chiefly in such control. It was revealed far more deeply than that in the outpouring of a courageous, chastened, and God-given spirit of gladhearted service in the name of the Lord whom she loved, and by whose grace her gifts were brought to such abundant fruition. Annie Johnson Flint's poems were not simply the unskilled utterances of a devout spirit. They disclose by their gracious art, the hand of the true poet who knows that religious verse-writing at its best requires not only a consecrated insight, but lest the message be halted and perhaps lost, a due regard for the most exacting canons in the use of rich and fitting words, musical rhythm, and correct verse forms. Hard work very often lies back of seemingly spontaneous utterances in which these principles of verse writing are followed. Page 5 of 125
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Page 3: THE MAKING of the BEAUTIFUL The Lif
Page 7 and 8: The Foregleam… This life at best
Page 9 and 10: They flashed in the gloom' of the f
Page 11 and 12: A Prose Picture of a Poet ~ WRITTEN
Page 13 and 14: mine, and saw beside me one with a
Page 15 and 16: these many days? Did I not myself r
Page 17 and 18: So I lay down upon the cross, and I
Page 19 and 20: CHAPTER I A Christmas Eve Baby In s
Page 21 and 22: that church. Then as the years roll
Page 23 and 24: poets, and then we attempted verse
Page 25 and 26: She realized, 'too, her good fortun
Page 27 and 28: Follow on with the next verse, He t
Page 29 and 30: As I drift away to dreamland to the
Page 31 and 32: Another characteristic was her acut
Page 33 and 34: parents had been taken from her in
Page 35 and 36: CHAPTER V Pressed Into Poetry and P
Page 37 and 38: messages to her friends, and of cou
Page 39 and 40: We were interested in finding this
Page 41 and 42: Perhaps to these we owe the sweet l
Page 43 and 44: CHAPTER VI The Poetical Theologian
Page 45 and 46: That strength of conviction in the
Page 47 and 48: And each must cry, 'My Lord, my God
Page 49 and 50: And in His death all Death was slai
Page 51 and 52: With the mists of earth to screen H
Page 53 and 54: CHAPTER VII Songs of Comfort But it
Page 55 and 56:
I found in His treasuries there; Oi
Page 57 and 58:
To Thine enfolding peace, and calm
Page 59 and 60:
And yet for the need of one soul it
Page 61 and 62:
CHAPTER VIII Sunset and Eventide Mi
Page 63 and 64:
Through love you shall learn and by
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suffering and death was ended forev
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To leave it an empty and useless th
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GREAT GRACE His grace is great enou
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Martha and Mary Martha was busy and
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Speaking smoothly with lying ruse T
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As his way has always been; But he
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My strained and peering eyes May cl
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All He asks is that you trust Him,
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The Serpent thoughts That leave the
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And fiercer grew the onslaught of m
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And though in darkness fettered fas
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Show Us Thy Grace Show us our need,
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The clouds all gone, the shadows fl
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The wonders of His grace, And He ca
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Where the silent voices echo throug
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Though every budding twig be lopped
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When I Think of Thee When I think o
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Oh, mighty love of Jesus! His feet
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The Threefold Work Three things the
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And when men's measured thread is s
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The Gray Days of November The gray
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Sharp stone and rock of stumbling t
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The lifted pressure of care? Nay, l
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We, who, like them, are growing in
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The Grace of God "My grace," 'tis t
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Apple Blossoms God might have cloth
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I don't look forward, God sees all
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No death could kill, no guard could
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The Lonely Olive Mill There’s a p
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Annie Johnson Flint 1866-1932 Where
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