Make me an eagle of progress, soaring far above narrow lanes of bigotry. Call me to soar ever higher and higher, far above all clouds of earthly pettiness.

With the sharp talons of my soul I will tear at the little squabbling birds of misery, which prey upon mankind. I will free my mind’s skies from the buzzards of cynicism which prey on carcasses of dead hopes.

I will soar on balanced wings of wholesome living, high up into the nest regions of divine perception. High above the hurricanes of earthly preoccupation, I will soar higher and higher to those unimagined heights where Thou alone dost dwell.

Make me Thy eagle of ever‐upward progress.


71. Flood Me with Thy Omnipresent Love