The Opelousas courier., 1890-10-04

Uuv mcauuw Is sufi! lu VIII wave the eternai
triumph. What if the voice that made mu-
sic in the home is still? 1t will sing the
eternal hosanna. Put a white rose in n
hand and a red rose in the other hand, and
a wreath of orange blossoms on the brow;
the white flower for the victory, the red
flower for the Saviour's sacrifice, the orange
blossoms for her marriage day: Anything
CHASTITY about thatf Oh. no. The sun went
down and the flower shut. The wheat
threshed out Of the straw. "Dear Lord,
give me sleep" said a dying boy, the son of
one of my elders; Dear Lord, give me
Sleep" And he closed his eyes and awoke in
glory. Henry w. Longfellow, writing a let
ter of condolences to those parents, said;
Those last words were beautifully poetic:
Dear Lord, give me Sleep"
Twas not In cruelty, not in wrath
That the reaper came that day;
Twas an angel that visited the earth
And took the flower away.
So it may be with us when our work is all
done. ''Dear Lord, give me Sleep"
| have one more thought to present. ]
have spoken of the blowing, of the sowing,
of the narrowing, Of the reaping, of the
threshing. I must now speak a moment OF
the garnering.
Where is the garnerf Need 1 tell your Oh,
no. So many have gone out from your own
St AtNA JONA " &oAAJ NAAs
you have had your eyes on that garner for
many a year. What a hard time some of
them hadi In Gethsemanes of suffering they
sweat great drops of blood. They took the
cup of trembling and they put it to their
hot lips and they cried: IF it be possible,
let this cup pass from me-" With tongues
of burning agony they cried: so Lord, de-
liver my soulp But they got over it. They
all got over it. Garneredl Their tears wiped
~ &I,as- L.&@1o- Ill o,,SoI }La,. L,,~
dens lifted. Garneredl The Lord OF the
harvest will not allow those sheaves tc
perish in the equinox. Garneredl Some
of US remember, on the farm, that the
sheaves were put on the top Of the rack
sheaves were piled higher and higher, and
after a while the horses started for the
barn; and these sheaves swayed TO and fro
in the wind, and the old wagon creaked
and the horses made a struggle and pulled
so hard the harness came up in loops of
leather on their backs, and when the front
wheel struck the elevated floor Of the barn
it seemed as it the load would go no farther
until the workmen gave a great shout, and
then with ms last tremendous strain the
horses pulled in the load; then they were un-
harnessed and forkful after forkful Of gfaiR
fell into the NOW. Oh, my friends. our get
ting into heaven may be a pull, a hard pull,
a very hard pull; but these sheaves are
bound to go in. The Lord of the harvest
has promised it. I see the load at last COM
ing in the door Of the heavenly garner. The
sheayes Of the Christian soul sway to and fro
in the wind of death, and the old body creaks
under the load, n as the load strikes the
floor of the celestial garner it seems as if il
can &c no farther. 1t is the last struggle,
until the voices of angels and the voices OF
our departed kindred and the welcoming
voice of God shall send the harvest rolling
into eternal triumph, while all up and down
the sky the cry is heard: Harvest homei
Harvest homer