The Benton weekly record. [volume] (Benton, Mont.) 1880-1885, 1880-06-04

| Through the streets it howls, the icy blast,
! Nhirling the falling snowfahes fast
| And faster, rs memories Of the past
are crowding his mind and dimming his eyes,
And in vain he implores the 1eaden skies:
'.Oh, skies Of lead and wintry graz,
That grudge us e'en a tiny ray
| OF moon by night, or sun by day!
In all our misery, sufrring and pain
Are our cries for pity and mercy in vain?
"'J7is not for me and mine alone,
oh Lord, that approach thy throne.
Kind Father, did not Thy son atone
Upon the cross for the sins Of the world
Why are VIC into this misery hurled.
'itnsh, hush, my heart! DO not blaspheme
Forgive me, oh Father, and let one beam,
Just one. of thy mercy upon rs glcam;
For oh, we have suffered 50 much so much!
: nd our hearts will be healed at thy gentle touch
~ 10 not rcproach or lnu1muE; but oh!
Look down in pity upon voc,
And mercy upon thy children bestow!
Ny loss / will count richest gain
May it cleanse my soul from sims dark stain.
'Look at the hunger, the sickness and gloom,
Ilc pitIClLS EDll III liiG NIbECncu room,
The shivering forms that in the corners loom
From out the darkness, starving and gaunt,
And with restless eyes the stiffness haunt!
"Thcy are my loved ones; but three a1c left
Of siX. OF my loving wife bereft
And children two, my heart is cleft
To think OF the fate that is yet in store,
E'cn knocking now at my chamber door.
But one short year has joined the host
Of the millions past No grinning ghost
Of cold or hunger then stood post
At my chamber door; but merry and light
My loved ones were that winters night.
"And n0tf! All me, [ shudde' to think
or the past, the present, the future; the brink
What is to become Of my little ones dear,
Should too, be taken away from here?
'Thou God of the fatElerless father will be!
Thou God Of the motherless mother will be!
Thou God of the sparrow trust in Thee
But oh! it is hard to be starving and cold
While others have all they can buy with their gold
"a few pennies only for coal and for bread,
A few more rags to cover the bed
Where lies my youngest-he's almost dead!
But no1sel to eat, and Il little fire
Might fan the flame that must else expire.
"And yet, am not alone cast down
by the weight Of sorrow; Fatc's dark frown
Has cast shadow on all this town,
And the poor and helpless are partners alike
In staIving-the rich it cannot strike.
"The mills are closed, the mines are shut:
Deaths shadow hangs DER every hut,
And ominous sounds the hollow thud
As the frozen earth on the coffin falls
\ sound that the stoutest heart appalls.
''To-morroW to thee as to me To-day,
That sound seems plainly as words to say,
We all are born to die and decay.
But save your souF is the Masters command,
They shall join your bodies in the better land
''Inm anguish OF heart groan aloud:
Can nothing on earth dispel this cloud
That envelopes us all in deathly shroud?
No! nothing can help us save God on high;
To Him from the depths of woe we must CRY!
"Thcn hear us, oh Lord! Oh turn Thy face
Once more upon this sinful race
And let the light of pardoning grace
Fail on u.s. and let past misery
For our sins pentcous atonement be!
"Thou wilt hear us, oh Lord! not because thou must
Butin thy promises We trust
And humbly we bow our heads in the dust
As Abba Fathern we cry, and confide
Ourselves to thy keeping in which we abide"
FEBRUARY, 1870.