Weekly expositor. (Brockway Centre, Mich.) 1882-1894, 1893-06-09

dren see her coming through the lane,
and they cry, "Grandmother's GOMEZ!
Care for you has marked up her face
with many deep wrinkle and her
back stoops with carrying your bur
dens. Some day she is very quiet.
She says she is not sick, but some
thing tells you, you will not much
longer have mother. She will sit with
you no more at the table, nor at the
hearth. Her soul goes out SO gently,
you do not eXac ly know the moment
of its going. Fold the hands that have
done SO many kindnesses for you right
over the heart that has beat with love
toward you since before YOU were born.
Let the pilgrim rest She is weary.
Death in the summer-house!
Gather about us what we will OF COM
fort and luxury, when the pale mes
senger comes, he does not stop TO look
at the architecture Of the house before
he comes in; nor, entering, does he
wait to examine the pictures we have
gathered on the wall; or, bending over
your pillow, he does not stop TO see
whether there is a color in the check,
or gentleness in the eye, or intelli-
gence in the brow But what of that?
Must we stand forever mourning
among the graves of our ad? No!
Mo- The people in Bengal bring cages
of birds to the graves of their dead,
and then they open the cages, and the
birds go singing heavenward. So |
would bring to the grave of your dead
all bright thoughts and congratula-
tions and bid them think of victory
and redemption. i stamp on the bot
tom of the grave, and II breaks through
into the light and the 6 DRY of heaven.
The ancients used to think that the
straits entering the Red Sea We're very
dangerous places, and they supposed
that every ship that went through
those straits would be destroyed, and
they were in the habit of putting on
weeds of mourning for those who had
gone on that voyage, as though they
were actually dead. Do you know
what they called those straits? They
call them the Gate of Tears" Oh,
stand to-day at the gate of tears
through which many of your love d
ones have gone, and / want to tell you
that all are not shipwrccled that have
gone through those straits into the
great ocean stretching out beyond.
shore on still nights when we are
wrapped in prayer makes me think
that the departed are not dead. We
are the dCad-we who TOLL we who
weep; we who sin-we are the dead.
How many hearts ache for human sor-
row. this sound of breaking hearts
that hear all about me- THIS last look
of faces That will never br ghten again!
this last kiss OF lips that never will
speak again; this wildwood and or
phanage! Oh, when will the day Of
sorrow be gone
After the sharpest winter, the spring
dismCunts from he shoulder OF a
southern gale and puts its warm hand
upon the earth, and in it's palm there
comes the grass, and there come the
flowers, and God reads over the poetry
OF bird, and brook, and bloom, and
4 pronounces il very good. What, my
! friends, if every winter had not its
spring, and every night its day, and
/ every Clio I'm its glow. and every hi ter
now its sweet hereafter If you have
/ be II on the sea, you know, as,the ship
/ passes in the night, there is phos-
/ phoresceut track left behind il; and as
| the waters roll up, they toss with un-
! imaginable splendor. We'll, across
this great ocean of human trouble
! Je,us walks Oh, that i'll the phos-
/ phor,s eat track Of his feet we might
! all follow and be ilumined!
There was gentleman in the rail
car who saw in that same car three
passengers OF very different circum-
stances. The first was maniac He
was carefully guarded by his attend
ants: his mind, like ship dismasted,
was beating against a dark, des olate
coast from which no help could come.
! The train stopped, and the man was
taken out into the asylum, to waste
away, perhaps, through years of gloom.
The second passenger was a culprit.
The outraged law hal seized on him.
AS the ears iolted, the chains ratified.
On his face were crime. depravity, and
despair. The train halted, and he
was taken out to the penitentiary, 10
which he had been condemned.
There was the Thrill passenger,
under far different circumstances
She was a bride Every hour was
gay as marriage bell. Life glittered
and beckoned. Her companion was
taking her 10 his fathers house. The
train halted The Old man was there
to welcome her to her new home, and
his white locks showed down upon heI
as he sealed his words with fathers
kiss.
Quickly we fly toward eternity. We
will soon be there. Some leave this
life condemned culprits. They refuses
pardon, they carry their chains. Oh
may it be with us that, leaving thi:
fleeting life for the next, we may fine
a Father ready to greet us to our new
home and Him forever. That will bt
marriage banquet Fathers wei
come! Fathers bosoml Fathers kiss
Heaven! heaveni