, 1873-03-16

He gave his haryests to the clustering poor.
And now, when many healing years had passed,
And on his sunken graves, with bloom and SHOW.
Had marked the lives and deaths Of Natures change,
He heard, through dim and frosty yistas, come,
Der Age's hoary landscapes. chill, but beautiful
The unmistaIen voice Of God in thrills Of dea;h
That touched Ills feeblng chords Of being evry day
With inti1uatious ti1at, In rerual bowers beyond
Tue faded e, winter horizon, his home fo: him
And rest WIS ready for his treless work.
He wished to crown his life by one great act
Of giving wortl!ly bis wealth away,
So that, In dying. coaseirnee might not scan
tEoutlous bubble Of legality.
He hunted thro the townships for m heir.
Poor Mary Barlow aud her daughter lived
! Upon scanty Of cold soil,
| pcninsIlaed Try tangled gloo1ns Of swamp.
| Husband mud father, overcome BY toll,
Struggling with stubborn Nature, nerved with hops
To cut homestead from the jungle, fell,
! Long years before, beneath tie fatal Hush
OF fever; aud now these, hia kindred, d''elt
| Iii utter poverty, nlone, and toi1cd
! With d1statr and with needle, weak OF hand,
I Aud dim of eye yet daily thanking God
For life continued, and their hope Of Heaven.4o
Tho winter plagued them. through ther chinky hut
Aud, covering at both Ills ct cold aud hest
| They knew 10 good Of LIFE, save tha. which Faith
| Sowed in the summer inches of their tine,
To bloom in solace for their sieFner hours.
| Ono day, an old and travel-wearicd man,
| Clad In poor garments, c:me, enid
An early whirl Of snow.aake., to their door:
His palsted Limbs could scarce support his frame:
| Upon the shaggy restmcnts Of tho trees,
Nayed thin mud grisly from his furrowcd face;
His voice, as treble as shred Of wind
strayed from the column Of w1ntet-storm
That pipes In feeble tits about the cares,
Asked for place to rest, and mite Of food
Complaining, In piseous, general way,
OF the hard~hearted GOODNESS Of mankind.
- No ono hath given me- aught this day"
He said, and looked his saddest, ilest look.
Poor Mary Barlow, full Of charity
OF heart and revcrcut faith in Hin
Who healed tho gathered Hfck without Zee,
And from the loayes aud fishes made feast
For M o'eraowing multitude Of hungry ones
Remembering, too the wldoT OF far yofe
Who fed the Prophet from her little store,
whiie the most necessary closeaess sci Of her lot, ::
win wor'dy-prudent voice, forbade gift,
And further seek the needed sympathy,
For you seem needier still than God knows
Tho meagre store have, but further kuowB
What He will do for us when 1t Is gone.
bid you welcome, in the name of God !"
f. A. entered ana idh ad eat, lingesin'g 1' d1y1
Searching the resources OF her poverty;
Then, lettering from the cabin all at once, t
As though upon some careless impulse moved,
Thankleas aud wordlcss went unmatched away.
Good Mary Barlow wondered much that night
At missing him. unknowing why he'd gone, |
And, then be.htnking her, Perhaps he judged
The wolf so near our door, his heart forbade
Thst FL % e so God @ would if ali heS lands @ Nth good
And mike her able to befriend His poor,
That they might t7rry when they came, unhurt
In conscience By her staring scarcity.
And, when the hour grew late, and shadows dn1l
With drowze upon the loE~ribbed wall, sha sought
Her chilly couch. with sorrow in her heart |
Next morning risen, abe her daughter told
A dream that fell upon her in the night.
Sarah, I thought LAST night angel came
Whilst stood ahiy'ring at tho nearer spring,
And, lowering, hung upon his shining wings
Between the tawny sycamorca. His face
Glowed like a Sun, and drore the cold away,
50 that the saplings budded, and The birds
Began to qtaver in contented songs, =.
Like summertime. little veil OF mist
Before his face kept ont the painiug glare
From my poor eyes, yet filled their sockets full
OF softened light, that dropped into my heart,
And made pleasing comfort in my frame.
He spoke, Thou, Mary Barlow, seest what am,-
Yet know that angels sometimes cross unknown
The poverty Of thresholds such as thine, !
And mortal eyes have not the strength to sec
Gods ministers through their dssuises, rife
With unscen aheavea Of blessings for the needs |
And cares OF such as thou heard rush
or wings, whose vanish ng WATTS seemed chimes
or golden beIs, md knew that he was gone.
Then walked, and aaw, tiro' yonder chink, waste
Or snow, with dawn-lght hoy,ltng; So gra5 y End eod'
And quickly realized that had dreamed.
But still lingering and prophetic joy
Btdes in me, Like tho dawn Of better days,
Glorious with blessing, empty Of anxiety,
With happy cazcs upon the flying time-'
And Sarah answered not, not weaving hope.
Upon the Nmsy Warpage OF dream,
Nor wishing to discourage Aught Of cheer
Her mother might derive In pondcring it.
The time few by,-a harsh, hard, icy month i.
)f deep'nlng winter and impending want,
With the gaunt ahadow Of the nearing wolf i
Fore- grounding all their plans Of daily TOLL i
When 10 ono morning, broad and white there lsJ,
Hard by the threshold, on the rotten floor,
folded paper with great red seal,
Which Sarah opened, and, astoniahed, read
The will Of Bnon Blossom, OF Veysy!
3iying to Mary Barlow all bis wealth.
handsome dwelling pleasant hill
Ililes Of good land, with wheat beneath the Snow;
31eat grannrIes with ample bins piled full;
Ind good1y fund Of money In . bank.
Mother, the blessed angel OF your dream
,pcaks IN this unexpected Proyidencc!' 1
;ricd Sarah, with joyful shortness IN her breath;
I've heard of Simon Blossom, Of Ve7ay;
3ut what deep mystery hath moved him thus?"
The mother answered: know not:
led knoweth,-to His uAme be praieeI -
3ut, daughter, Let us not forget the poor,
sor, with the overflow Of this great gift,
Se may bless many, like tho poor old man
Gho crossed our doorstep but month ago;
You'd that knew this moment where he ia n
i week thereafter, in har new estate.
tood Mary Barlow dreamed eecoal stc.e II
II angel T!ai.knts. Thfs time, tbs f..e,
Unveiled amid the fash Of heavenly IIlr,es,
nd glowing y;i.h satisfied beueyptence l.
Gzs that Of him, the old and weary guest.
L. L, CAIrpz11,