The Republican., 1894-08-23
St. Peter at the Gate.

GOgGUilel.
ST. Peter at the Gate.
st. Peter stood guard at the golden gate
With a solemn mien and an air sedate,
When up to the top of the golden stair
A man and n woman ascending there,
Applied for admission, They came and stood
Before st. Pete" so great and good,
In hopes the city of peace to win
And asked ST. Peter to let them in.
The woman was tall, and lanl and thin,
With a scraggy beardlet upon her chin,
The man was short, and thick and stout
And his s.omach was built so it rounded out.
His face was pleasant, aud all the while
He wore kindly and genial smile.
The choirs in the distance the echoes woke,
And The man kept still while the woman
spoke:
"Oh, Thou who guardest the gate" said she,
eve two come hither, beseeching thee
To let us enter the heavenly land,
And play our halps with the angel band,
OF me, st. Peter taere is no doubt
There's nothing from heaven to ba" me out,
I've been TO meetings three times a week,
Aud almost always I'd lise and speak.
I've told the sinners about the day
When they d repent OF their evil way:
l have told my neighbors, 1 have told them
all
Bout Adam and Eve, and the Primal fall;
I've shown them what they'd have 20 do
If they'd pass in with the chosen few:
We mark eG their path of duty clear
Laid out the plan OF their whole career,
I've talked and talked to em loud and long,
For my lungs are good and my voice Is strong.
So good st. Peter, you II clearly see
The gate of heaven is open to me:
But my old man, l regret 10 say,
Hasn't walked in exactly The narrow way
He smokes and he swears, and grave faults
he's got
And don't know whether he'll pass or not
He never wonld pray with an earnest vim,
Or go to revival or join in a hymn,
So had to leave him in sorrow there
While l, W tn the chosen, united in prayer.
He ate what the pantry CHANGED to afford,
While l, in my purity, sung to the Lord:
And if cucumberS were all he got
JGs chance ifbe merited them or not.
But oh, st. Peter, love him so,
To the pleasures of heaven please let him gol
I've done enough-a saint We been,
Won't that atone? Can't you let him in?
By grim gospel l know It's so
That the unrepentant must f. below:
But isn't there some way you can see,
That he may enter who's dear to me?
It'sa narrow gospel by Which pray,
But the Chosen expect to find some way
Of fcoaXing or fooling, or bribing you
SO that The ir relations can amble through.
And say, S.. Peter, il seems 20 me
This gate Isn kept as it ought to be.
You ought TO sand by that opening there
And never sit down in that easy chair
And say St. Feter my SIGHT is dimmed
But l don t like the way your whiskers are
trimmed
They're cut TO wide and outward toss,
They'd look better narrower, cut straight
across.
Well we ~ ust be going our crowns to win,
so open ST. Peter and we'll pass i'm
St. Peter sat quiet and stroked his STAFF:
But, spite of his Office he had to laugh:
Then said, with a fiery geam in his eye,
"Who lending this gateway-you o" I?''
And then he arose in his Stature tail,
And pressed button upon the wall
And said to he mp who answered the bell
"Escort this lazy around to hell"
The man stood sill as piece ofstoDe--
Stood sadly, gloomily there alone,
A lifelong, settled idea he had
That his wife was good and he was bad.
He thought if the woman went down below
That he would cer,ainly have 10 GO
That if she went TO the regions dim
There WASH t the ghost ola show for him.
Slowly he turncd by habit bent,
To follow wherever ,he woman went,
ST. Peter standing on duty there,
Observed that the Top Of his head was bare.
He called the gentleman back and said:
"FIiend, how long have you been wed?'
Thirty years. "a weary sign
And then he thougutully added "why?"
st. Peter was silent. with head bent down
He raised bis hand and scratched his crown:
Then seeming a dt lerent thought TO take
Slowly, halrto himself he spake:
"Thirty years with that women there?
No wonder the man hasa't amy hart
Swearing 5 wicked. smokes no good,
He smoked ana sworC-t should thiuk he
would,
Tuirty years with that tongue SO sharpe
Ho! Angel Gabriel! Give him a harp!
A jeweled harp VITA n golden stting,
Good sir, pass ia where the ar-els sing!
Gabriel, give him a seat alone
One with a cushion-up near the tbronc
Call up some angels to play their best,
Let him enjoy the music and rest;
See that on finest ambrosia he feeds,
He's had about all the bell he needs
1t isn't just hardly the thing 20 do
To roast him on earth and the future too
They gave him a harp with golden strings,
A gliteing robe with pair of WINGS,
| And he said as he entered the Realm OF Day,
| "Well, this beats cucumbers anyway
! And so the scriptures had come 10 pass:
| "'ihe last shall be first and the first shall be
last