Wessington Springs herald. (Wessington Springs, Aurora County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1891, 1888-03-16

board must have solemn tread. Though
the voice may be tremulous, SO that grand
father will not trust it in church, still he
has the Psalm book open before him and
grandchild asleep with the same tune he
sang forty years ago in the old country
meeting house. Some day the choir sings
a tune SO old that the young people do not
know it; but it starts the tears down the
cheek of the aged man, for it reminds him
Of the revival scene in which he partici-
pated, and of the radiant faces that long
since went to dust, and of the gray-haired
minister leaning over the pulpit and sound
ing the good tidings of great Joy.
was one Thanksgiving day in my pull
pit in Syracuse. N. Y, and Rev. Daniel
Waldo, at 9S years of age, stood beside me.
The choir sang tune. / said: II am
| sorry they sang that new tune; nobody
seems to know it." "Bless you, my son."
said the old man, II heard that SEVENTY
years ago."
There was a song to-day that touched
the life of the aged with holy fire, and
younger eyesight cannot see. It was the
song of salvation-Jesus, who fed them
all their lives long; Jesus. who wiped away
their tears; Jesus, who stood by them when
! all else failed; Jesus, in whose name their
| marriage was consecrated, and whose resur-
rection has poured light upon the graves of
their departed. Blessed the Bible in which
i specialized old age reads the promise, II
will never leave you, never forsake you!"
Blessed the staff on which the worn-out
| pilgrim totters on toward the welcome of
his Redeemer! Blessed the hymn book in
which the faltering tongue and the failing
eyes find Jesus, the old mans song.
| speak to you again of Jesus as the
night song. Job speaks of Him who giveth
songs in the night. John WEIGH, the old
Scotch minister, used to put a plaid across
his bed on cold nights, ana some one asked
him why he put that there. He said: "Oh,
praise of Jusus, and to get down and pray;
then I just take that plaid and wrap it
around me. to keep myself from the cold. :"
Songs in the night! Night of trouble has
come down upon many of you. Com
mercial losses put out one star, slanderous
abuse put out another star, domestic be-
reavement has put out thousand lights,
and gloom has been added to gloom, and
chill to chill, and sting to sting, and one
midnight has seemed TO borrow the fold
from another midnight to wrap itself in
more unbearable darkness; but Christ has
spoken peace to your heart, and you can
sing:
! Jesus, lover OF NV soul,
Let me to thy bosom fly,
While the pillows near me roll,
| While the tempest still is high.
Hide me, oh, my Savior hide
Till the storm of life is past,
/ Safe into the haven guide;
Oh, receive my soul at last.
Songs in the night! Songs in the night!
For the sick, who have no one to turn the
hot pillow, no one to put the taper on the
stand. no one to put ice on the temple, or
pour out the soothing anodyne, or utter
one cheerful word-yet songs in the night!
For the poor, who freeze in the winters
cold and swelter in the summers heat, and
MUNICH the hard crusts that bleed the sore
gums, and SILVER under blankets that can
not any longer be patched, and tremble be-
cause rent day is come and they may be
set out OF the sidewalk, and looking into
the starved face of the child and seeing
famine there and death there, coming
home from the bakery, and saying, in the
presence of the little famished ones, ooh,
my God, flour has gone up!" Yet songs in
the night! Songs in the night! For the
widow who goes to get the back pay of hel
, husband, slain by the SHARP shooters,
, and knows it is the last help she will have,
moving out of a comfortable home in des'
n hausting cough and the pale cheek and the
J lusterless eye, and refusing all relief. Ye
songs in the night! Songs in the night
For the soldier in the field hospital, M
surgeon to bind up the gun-shot fracture
{ no water for the hot lips, no kind hand t,
3 brush away the flies from the fresh wound
) no one to take the loving farewell, til,
, grooming of Others poured into his owl
groan, the blasphemy of others blowing ul
| h fha ~
dying away from home among strangers.
Yet songs in the night! Songs in the
night! "Ah!" said one dying soldier, "tel
my mother that last night there was no.
one cloud between my soul and Jesus.
, Songs in the night! Songs in the night!
The Sabbath day has come. From the
affairs of ten thousand churches has
smoked up the SAVIOR of sacrifice. Minis.
tiers of the Gospel are now preaching in
italian, in harsh Choctaw. Gods people
, have assembled in Hindoo temple,
and Moravian church, and Quaker meet
, ing house, and sailors bethel, and kings
chapel, and high lowered cathedral. They
sang, and the song tloated off amidst the
, spice groves, or struck the icebergs, OF
, foated off into the Western pines, or was
drowned in the clamor of the great cities.
Lumbermen sang it, and the factory girls.
ulu lue Cul1uI0u III tue OuUUdlu CAaoSS uAO
the trained choirs in great assemblages.
Trappers, with the same voices with which
they shouted yesterday in the stag hunt,
and mariners with Threats that only o few
days ago sounded in the hoarse blast Of
the sea hurricane, they sang it: One
theme fer the sermons. One burden fol
the song. Jesus for the invocation. Jesus
for the Scripture lesson. Jesus for the
baptismal font. Jesus for the sacramento
cup. Jesus for the benediction. But the
day will go by. It will roll away on swift
wheels Of light and love. Again the
churches will be lighted. Tides of people
again setting down the streets. Whole
families coming up the church aisle. We
must have one more sermon, two prayers.
three songs, and one benediction. What
shall we preach tonight? What shall We
read? What shall it be, children? AGED
men and women, what shall it be? Young
men and maidens, what shall it be? If yor
dared to break the silence of this auditory.
there would come up thousands of quich
and jubilant voices crying out: "Let it be
Jesus! Jesus!"
We sing His birth-the barn that shell
tered Him, the mother that nursed Him.