The Democrat. (Scotland Neck, Halifax Co., N.C.) 1884-1896, 1894-03-01
VOL. K.
SIMON GRUB'S DREAM.


GEO. I. ANGEL.
The text was this "Inaslnuch as We
Have done it to these We have done i
to me-"
Soon Simon slept, for twas sultry
weather,
And the dream and the sermon Wen
On together.
He dreamed that he died and stood a,
the gate
OF the outer court where the angels
wait
For those who hear the glad well done
| And can enter the realms of the Holy
| One.
While Simon waited and wondered il
he
Had forgotten the password, or lost the
| KEY
A voice above him said, said loud and
clear,
do you know you must bring your
| witnesses here?"
"Of witnesses there are many" said he
my brethren and neighbors Will ali
speak for me.
But the brethren and neighbors came
not near,
And he only heard whinny, familiar
and clear;
And old Grayfoot, the horse, stood just
at his right,
While around on the other side, just
coming in sight
Was a crowd of dumb creatures SO for
lorn and poor
That the angel wept as he opened the
door,
Then Simon grew pale, and trembling
with fear
Said, 80 why are not some of the
brethren here?
Pray wait, pray wait, they'll surely
come"
'Twss Grayfoot that spoke then, and
Simon was dumb.
''On wintry nights I've stood in my
stall
When the cold winds blew through the
cracks in the wall
Till every Joint and sinew and bone
Seemed frozen and dead as the coolest
stone.
I've shivered the dreary time away
With only some wisps of the poorest
hay;
Then put to work with shout and blow,
SO hungry and faint l could scarcely
CO."
Then old Brindle came, and with soft
brown eyes
Fixed on her master in sad surprise,
Told a pitiful tale of starvation and
cold,
And how he had sold her food for gold
The poor sheep told their story too
OF bitter wrongs their whole life
through
Turned out in cold and stormy weather,
To starYe and freeze and cry together.
They were lowly cries, but they turned
to prayer,
And floating upward had rested there
Close by the ear of Him who says,
I will hear the cries of my poor always
The old house dog, though treated i'll
Came near and fawned on his master
still,
Because the love these dumb things
know
Is more than human, more faithful,
more true.
Then conscience woke, like some torpid
thing
That is brought to life by the sun in
spring,
And it lashed and stung him like
poisoned thongs
AS memory brought him his train of
wrongs,
nothing of word or deed,
Of cruel blows or selfish greed.
His cruelly-treated friends that were
dumb
Would they follow him On through
the ages to come?
NJ ust he see them forever garlnt, hun
gry and cold?
For "Time and eternity never grow
DID,"
How oft in dumb pleading they'd ask
a caress
From his hands that beaten and star
we'd them Oh yes,
He remembered it all, and 1t stung him
to know
That the love they had craved had
been met only with blow.
could he live oyer the life that was
past,
And leave out its sins, to stand here. at
last
With soul that was white for hap
per fate:
Was it conscience that whispered,
"TOo late. too late ~
He'd cruelty passed over life's narrow
ing track,
Till remorse claimed its own,-for that
never turns back;
And sins scarce remembered, remem-
bered too late,
rev black as he saw them from heav-
ems barred gate.
Twas in vain that he strOve to speak
to say
those sweet old words, "Forgive, |
pray -