Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1888-03-05

SONS on the top of it; and bitter desola-
ton, anda
SIGNING AT NIGHTFALL
with no one to put to bed, and s wet
pillow, and 9 grave, and a wreath Of
white blossoms on the top OF it. The
heavenly Shepherd will take that
lamb safely anyhow, whether you
have been faithful or untaitbful;
but would it not have been
pleasenter if you could hsve heard from
those lips the praise of Christ? 1 never
read anything more beautiful than this
about child's departure. The account
said: "She folded her hands, kissed her
mother goodbye, sang her hymn, turned
her face to the wall, said her little prayer,
and then died."
"Oh, If I could gather up in one para
graph the last words OF the little ones
who have gone out from all these Chris
tisu circles, and l could picture the calm
looks, and the folded hands, and sweet
departure, methinks it would be grand
and beautiful as one of Heavens great
doxologies.
1 next speak Of Christ as the old mans
song. Quick music loses its charm for
the Ggsd ear. The schoolgirl asks
for q schottish ora glee; but
her grandmother asks for "Balerma" or
the "Portuguese hymn" Fifty years OF
trouble have tanned the spirit. and the
KEYS of the music board must have q
solemn tread. Though the voice may be
tremulous, so that grandfather will not
trust it in church, still he has the psalm
book open before him, and he sings with
his soul. He huns his grandchild asleep
with the same tune he sang forty years
ago in the old country meeting hoase.
Some day the choir sings 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 participated, and OF the radiant faces
that long since went to dust, AID of the
gray-haired minister leaning over the pull
pit and sounding the good tidings of great
Joy.
l was one Thanksgiving day in my
pulpit, in Syracuse, N. Y, and Rev.
| Daniel Waldo, st ninet7-eight years OF
age, stood beside me. The choir sang &
tune. l said, 81 am sorry they sang that
new tune; nobody seems to know it"
"Bless you, my son," said the old man,
tI heard that seventy years sgo!"
There was song to-day that touched
the life Of the aged with holy fire, and
kindled a glory on their vision that our
younger eyesight can not see. 1t wss the
song of salvation-Jesus, who fed them
sill their lives long; Jesus, who wiped
away their tears; Jesus, VINO stood by
them when sll else failed; Jesus, in
whose name their marriage was con-
| seCrsted, and whose resurrection has
poured ligot upon the graves of their
| departed. Blessed the Bible in which
specialized cid age reads the promise,
II will never leave you, never forsake
you!" Blessed the staff on which the
WORKOUT pilgrim totters on toward the
welcome Of his Redeemerl Blessed the
hymn book in which the fsltering tongue
ard the failing eyes find Jesus, the ole
mAu's Song!
speak 10 you again Of Jesus as the
night-Song J5b speaks Of him who
giVeth songs in the night. John WEIGH
the old Scotch minister, used to put 5
pIaid across his bed on cold nights, anC
some one asked him why he put tha
there. He said, "Oh, sometimes in the
night Wsnt 10 sing the praise Of Jesus
and TO get down and pray; then l JUS
take that plaid and wrap it around me, Il
keep myself from the cold" Songs il
the night! Night Of trouble has com'
down upon many Of you. CommeTcia
| losses put out one star, slspderCus a5us'
put out another star, domestic bereaVe
ment hes put out thousand lights, snC
gloom has added to gloom, and chill Il
chill, and sting to sting, and one mid
night has seemed to borrow the fOlC
from another midnight to wrap itself il
more upbesrsble darkness; but Christ hH
spoken peace to your heart, and you Cal
sing,
Jesus, lover of my soul,
Detme to thy bosom fly,
While she pillows near me roll
While the tempest still is high
Hide me, oh, my Savior hide
TIL The storm Of life lie 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 thu
hot pillow, no one to put the tsper on thu
stand. no one to put ice on the temple, o.
pour out the soothing sRodyne, or ute
one cheerful Word-yet songs in thu
night For the poor, who freeze in thu
winters cold, ard swelter in the sum
mer's heat, and MUNICH the hard crust
that bleed the sore gums, and shiver I'm
der blankets th4t cannot any longer b.
patched, and tremble because rent-dHy i
come snd they may be set out on tn
sidewalk, and looking into tn
starved face of the child and seeing fam
inc there and death there, coming home
from the bakery and saying, in the pres
ence of the little famished ones, "Oh, my
God, -four has gone upl" Yet songs IL
the night! Songs in the night For tn
: widow who goes to get the back pay c
her husband, slain by the "shArp shoot
ers" and knows it Is the last help she vii
have, moving out Of a comfortable hom
{ in desolatiGn, death turning back from
= tho exhaustiDg cough and the pale chez
and the lusterless eye, and refusing a
! relief. Yet songs in the night! Songs i
the night For the soldier in the field
! hospital, no surgeon 20 bind up the guI
= shot fracture, no water for the hot lips
no kind hand to brush away the nies froI
! the fresh wound, no one to take the Low
i ing farewell, the grooming OF other
poured into his own groap, the blAsphem
6 of others blowing up his own spirit, III
( condensed bitterness Of dying sway troll
3 home among strangers. Yet songs in tn
e nlgntl Songs in the night! "Ah!" sal
q one dying soldier, "tell my mother tn:
n last night there was not one cloud be
4 tween my soul and Jesus" Songs in th
. night! Songs in the night
p The Sahb1th-day has come. From II
;. affairs OF 10000 churches hiss smoked I