The Rutland daily globe. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1873-1877, 1875-02-01
MuiIigan's Gospel.
BY ANNIE HERBERT.

NJ hNNib hhhhhhis
I'VE a rare bit of news for you, Mary Malone,
And truth, It's the strangest that ever was
known;
How soul came from heaven TO Poverty row !
II an angel had troubled the waters that bore
Such little white craft to our turbulent shore,
No mortal could tell but that lnnocent child,
Like dove without wings, nesting downy
With eyes vaiilIng pictures of paradise spleu-
Came Into the tement crazy and Wild
And tho hard life so ptiless, rough and defiled,
over 10 Mulligan's.
1t Is strange to our eyes, but perhaps you have
A vine clasp Its tendrIls OF delicate green
Round desolate rock, or a lily grow white,
With Its roots In the tarn and Its face In the
or when night and storm wrap the sky In n
A star shaken out from the fold OF a cloud,
SO this little one came-but 1t never seemed
There were children enough, heaven knows -!
Cadets. for the Tombs from the bold whisky
rabble,
Choked out from the love that is heavens own
Rank sons of the soil, cropping out for a fight
over TO Mulllgan's.
There was nany u banquet in Muiliganss hall
! Where the jewellers Toasted on nothing at all,
Ana King mt the board giving knighthood Of
pains,
And orders OF crosses, and clanking of chains
TIN held as law the most perfect IN life,
The strong tie that bound him to Nora, his
But blinded by drink, when his passion ran
He bate her, OF course, with fury inhuman
And she such poor, patient bit OF u woman
Well for her soft voice answered low to her
And her sun never set in the baby's blue eyes,
over to Milligan's.
1t was twelve months or more from the time she
was born,
As | saw at my window one sunshny morn,
''Jist come ouver" the voice OF Tim Mulligan
said,
~ behave in me sowl that me baby is dead I"
lie had held Wild revel late into the night.
And the wee, frightened dove plumed her PIN
ions for flight;
This the man saw at last, with sudden dis
may;
"God forgive Inc !" he cried, " sure she'd nlver
wid the cursin' an drunk, when me lips should
| be prayin'!"
And the priest came and went, little dreaming
How the priesthood OF angels was winning Its
| way
over to Mulligan's.
Then the sweetest, the saddest. the tenderest
| sight
Lay the child like fair sculptured vision Of
light,
Hands closed over daisies, frlnged lids oveI
tears
That never would fall through lifes sorrowfu
| years;
"Ah, mayourneen !" moaned Tim, ats forivel
III think
That the saints took yez home from the divil oil
| drink
An mayhap "-here he shvered decantcr and
bowl
"She Will see me up there wild the Mother Of
| Jesus,
An sind down the grace that from sin ivei
frees u.s."
So the leaven that spread from one beautiful
SOUL
Through that turmoil OF misery leavenod the
whole,
over TO Mulligan's.
Now thing the most wonderful, Mary Malone
And truth, It's the StrangeSt that ever wal
| known,
Mr. Mulllgan met me to-day ON the street.
And he looked like a man from his head TO hi
| feet;
Though his clothes are but coarse, they ar,
. | cOmely and trim,
And no man dares TO say, Here's health I,
you, TIM"
He wlli soon rent cottage ana live like tn,
| best,
And the gosslps do say with wide lifting o
ringers,
1t Is ali for sweet charity's sake that h
fingers
In the row where Gods peace settled down IL
his breast,
When a soft, weary wing huttered home iron
| the nest,
over TO Mulligan's.
Christian Union.