The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1894-11-13
the poem read by Rev. J. Albert Llpoy
for the centennial which is here given:
"REMINISCENCES.

A "REMINISCENCES.
Written for the Raymond Hill h. b.
Church centennial meetingi in memory
of one of their beloved ministers--Rev.
James Libby at West Poland Me.-by his
so Rev. J.Albelt Libby.)
In the old days of two-score years ago.
Sitting where you now sit in many
Another generation from these places
Turned to the pulpit oft their serious
faces;
While one OF many preachers told the
OF Jesuss sufferings and his after glory,
Urging. his hearers with unfaltering
zeal,
Daily before the throne of grace to
kneel
Only this one of all the sober men,
Whose voices echoed forth the gospel
then,
Will remember 10Th ers may swell
OF other ministers their story tell.
Elder L. James Libby, out from Poland
Threaded the hills and valleys up and
down,
10 meet your parents on the spacious
green
That lay the old church step and road
between.
Here hands were shaken with the greet
ing smile,
And all walked in with reverence DER
each aisle
Till from all neigh Dorhoods for miles
around
The housefull waited for the gospels
sound.
What family focks were seated herel and
there
To hear the words the preacher might
declare.
The Smiths, and Browns. and SmalIs.
were numerous then, ia
The Nashss many more than since have
been,
And Jordan families in those old days
Gave their attendance there from differ
ent ways.
The symonds folk, and Tenneys, too, as
we'll,
And other names, of which we need not
tell.
A mazing grace, how sweet the sound,n
Is sung by all who sing, the pews
around,
When through the house and out along
the air,
The preacher calls to heaven in mighty
And a. all the the wants of those with him
AS at the throne of grace he groweth
bold.
No trial sere of grief will he forget
OF those who listen with their faces wet.
The sermon after this might be of those
The Hebrew worthless who endured such
woes
With faith all-conquering and with hope
sublime,
Anchoring their souls beyond the ills o.
time.
Sons Of those fathers, you remember
The speech of him who thus the truth
did tell
Rolling the rapid strains as if the Lord
Sometimes stood near to give him word
on word,
Then saints were comforted and sinners
quailed
AS oft the ringing voice SIMS fort as
While through the tears of penitence
eacn eye
Saw sweet Salvation's stream was flow
ing nigh.
Where is the home in all this region
Mayhap, if we should ask, which might
be found
That this same preacher, with uncov-
cred head,
Hath never entered to behold our dead?
What words of solace then his lips have
spoken
To soothe the mourning hearts with sor-
row broken,
Pointing Hopes finger to promised
day
When sickness. deaths and graves shall
pass away.
Perhaps, in those old days, some that
are here
Have stood before this preacher dumb
While they were being mated up for
AS he pronounced the two husband and
wife.
All! These old days are but in memory
kept
The most we speak of, their last sleep
Thass- grown the mounds are, where, SO
long and still
Grey wait on Raymond and Megguier
Hills,
Till the last trump shall waken all
earth o'er
The good of every land to die no more. !"
Let us, the children of these fallen ones,
Be cody. as-their daughters and their
That those who follow us so close be-
hind
Our children-may as well our Saviour
find.
In the historical sketch of the church,
published In the PRESS of Novem Der
+. the name of Francis Small, Jr., was
one of the prominent members of the
| church, should have been Francis Small.