River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1885-10-22
THE OLD PARSON.
BY i. +. TRowBRIpeE.


In antique-fashioned coat and wig
Along the road the aged preacher
Goes slowly jogging in his gig
\ home-spun saint III garb and feature
He has smile or kindly speech
Alike for rich and poor and each
Wild youth no sermon vet could reach:
For all are better than their deeds,
And heaven is kinder than our creeds."
Thinks the old parson.
Not now the schoolbovs hat in hand,
And pinafored and pretty lasses,
In rows upon the adsidc stand
And make their manners when he passes.
As the good custom used To be
In DAYS when We was young; but he
Likes better, simple soul. to see
The smile thas lights each roguish eye
And rosy face as he rides by.
The dear old parson.
Though many a stop he makes, youn find
His welcome presence longest fingers
In yonder cottage-room behind
The honey suckle and svringas,
Where all the lovely summer lies
The crippled girl with vearniug eyes
Turned outward to the flowers and skies.
Few come TO soothe her loneliness,
And SO good cause has she TO bless
The kind old parson.
When friends fall out, before the gate
The gig turns up. he bitches Sorrel-
Love enters IN the mouse OF n0Ie.
He takes the hands OF them that quarrel,
And says Forgive! forgive. and then,
If need there be forgive again.
And still forgive and love! For men
Are always better than their deeds
Such seeds he sows. Heaven bless the seeds
Sown by the parson
His mission is to help and bless;
And the hard doctrines that he breaches
In words Of joy and gentlencss
Are hidden like the stones in peaches.
His hearers hearts are warmed and stirred;
And yet, he does not preach the Word
His works are vain, as late ! heard,
With finger-shake and a sapient air,
Two pert young ministers declare,
And blame the parson.
One said He likes a hand at whist;
And one HE takes a glass at dinner,
And loves to counsel and assist
Better than to convert the sinner
Grave faults =, said both. But this know:
The ParsOu life as parsons go,
Is such as those who judge him 50
Are hardly u orthy to unloose
The buckles of his dusty shoes
A rare old parson
He likes a joke too well by half"
And so he sets some hearts quaking,
As if, because his deaconS laugh,
The pillars of the church were shaking
Il never yet could learn" he says,
a.
In broad sunshinv cheerfuluesS,
Than in the shadow of the tomb;
It's fear. not faith. that hugs the gloom
Argues the parson.
He squares his thought by right good sense,
And does not dread the light of science.
His finest flowers of eloquence
Are just the common dandelions
And buttercupS OF daily speech;
And yet they say who hear him preach
-, &c ba f.aY ta1rh
The hope that lives, the love that burns,
Till even the careless skeptic turns
To heed the parson.
But though he be not deeply versed
In modern oratoric graces.
The studied pause, the fervent burst,
The tlower-emnroidered cOmmOn-places,
He treads no chaugeless narrow rounds
OF old belief. but far from bounds
His new Jerusalem lie POUNDS;
For newer life brings larger needs
And truth outgrows our threadbare creeds,
Says the wise parson.
Loves labors are his rest. and still
His friends viii look, i'll pleasant weather.
To see him Jogging by. until
His gig and he break down together.
Our friend is growing very old,
And rich in al the boarded gold
Which hearts alone can have and hold:
The riches that nen leave behind
Are not the riches to my mind,
Quoth The old parson.
He still will have the good he gave
When. all his earthly errands ended,
He who has stood by many a grave
Shall Toe by US in turn attended
To the last resting place of clay;
Then. as we lay his form away.
Wen Strew the sod with flowers, and say
The man was better than his deeds,
His heart was larger than our creeds,
Peace to the parson.'