, 1874-01-25
MtSERERE

Gac mourning and ;1oantng,
The wailing Of sorrow Z
List | you are near 1t
That IanguishlnG moan.
That perishing groan
It's deatl ere the morrow.
Come! wrap up closely.
Fur the weather Is utterly cold,
We will now cnter thecs,-
That tumble-down cottage and old;
Tris thence comes that wall of desInit.
Yes. the weather is bitterly cold
IT'S the vail Of tho weary,
Longing for death;
sigh OF the dreary,
Painting for breath
Gasplug sorrowfuf curse
OF hopeless despair, or WORSE
cursing OF God in desth+
Enter7 OF course though IT frlghten:
We should tecl the 11ufortuuate's rod
We . desolate sky may brighten,
Walking tie paths tnnt He tsud,
And sharing tie strokes OF the rod:
~ Rsrs4anss we . earde4 e4 a %a} tighten
Nay, do not fear it,
That blasplemous cry:
The Brotherhood hearB it,
AT home in the SKY;
Hes there, and he nttens,-
No teard1op e'er glistens
But another drops down from HH eyh.
In poverty's keeping
Grim Want EtAres around,
And snow-drifts are feaping
Where the crnnnies xbouud.
The terrors Of hunger through aad creeping
Where p,titn bl's treathe unspokea prayer prayer'
And heart-broken signing re-eehooa dsopalr-
She laE theFo a-dying,
Her children all crying,
Mounting aud grooming,
At Deaths portal nearing.
NO bre1d in the house,
No money 10 buy
Waiting and fearing,
Yet hoping to de-
The last e1nhers we're dying,
And iist she is signing:
"God only knows
How the wind Iierces through
These WORKOUT clothes,-
For the weather is bitterly cold,
And it snows.
"But here must shiTer,
Herr must stay;
Othat over the River
might 80 to-day
Tue boatman 1t Styx
Could not charge for toll
Yhla waves Of Death over me- TOLL
4crying for bread I've none to give;
The last dry crust
is gone with my trust
That Providcnt Hand would know
Ny sorroWipg lot, my Willing WOO,
And for our ueed gre bread
But ali such trust is dead.
",Iis writ IN that Book,
That He Leass the widows cries.
That the orpn2u's no4n
Tse;r n suste ,eaTs rs of sortzowing t drea;
But in every page it ies-
II cannot now rc7d
Ita mockjng page,
While my children plead
And hungering rage,-,
r1ououutfng its words He-
Go take it, Guild, and sell 1t for preAd,-
You will not need it when AM dead
+" Go. sell It to them
That heed that bell
That rings now lor ne
But sorr5wful kneu
Of blRntcd hone IN God,-
Tint he'll in church that's called His own:
They believe that be hears tue "1do" moan.
=" Tnsy wtn retoice, =, mir.
In the promises cleart
With Savior near,
And call those promises awoet retreats,
Meath the glowing lights
On their cushioned Seats
.* Who would wonder ut prayer and praise
From those 50 blese
With temporal res, -
Present salvation here at the door,
And bright, glad Heaven to end theu ua}hI
I wonder il ever they truly deplora
Tue sad, hatd faith Of tue fa1thisss poofz
HNo, remember, In days sgoue,
When took my little ones along,
And found sent near the door,
We heard OF Jesus who never would leaVo Us,
Who made HIS bed with the poor;
Who 6peut His 1fo with the wretcllea strno,-
The strife now dcplore.
.But, when turned to my lonely home,
To leave the place Of prayer,
NV little ones dung TO MY tattered d1esS,-
n oyery motion did fear express
or the cold, unfeeling STARE i.
The piain yet unspokcn euetr
f,f 3y3,at are th9u doing hcE9?'
"Twas then learned
To hate the rod.
Strive against Fate,
ClerishiNg hate,
Bitterly eursing the Christians 3 Cog: g..
If that was His image We mex IL LIS ooo1s
He never knew tie helpless poor.
" He would not haye left US
With poverty singing.
And huuger-crics rlnQlng,-~
nv norton to die here alone:
He ,sould have compassion
And eave ere dash on
The SEA Of the gloomy UNKNOWN
Let us enter She ccaaea
TO speak, while Increases
The l,allor Of Death:
The throes OF life cutting,
The spir1t releases:
The heart-strings are rcnding,-
IT'S the last, gasping breath.
Too late WAS orr comfng;,
The wild wiud Is huznroiog
md. plaintire requiem over the dead:
Too late, and spirit
Has lied to the portal,
70 stand in the Judgment,
A fxith1ess Immortal.
BIT come there's another y
pet1shiug brotner'
In tho street there he TICS.
He's hghting with demons:
The xild, aunken eyes
Bctoken madness.
But look there l-he dies!
Dies rs he cursea
The damon OF Runa,-.
curses, while dying,
Tie dear ones at lonlc,-.
Freezins without, burning within.
O had We come sooncrs
VI might have saFed him.