Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1896-03-07
st. Peter mt the Gate.

st. Peter stood guard at the Golden Gate,
With solemn mien and an AR seuate.
When UP TO the top OF the golden star
a man and woman, ascending there,
Applied for admission. They came and
stood
Before ST. Peter. 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 lank and thin
With scraggv beardlet upon hsr chiIi'
The man was short and thick and stout
Ills stomach was built so II rounded out.
His face was pleasant. and all me WINE
He wore kindly and genial smile,
The choirs in the distance the echoes
And the man kept still while the woman
spoke.
80 thou who guardest the Gate" said
she. 49,
1--WE two come hither beseechIng thee
| To let us enter the heavenly land
And plav our harps with the nngel-band
OF me. ST. Peter, there Is no DOUBT
There's nothing from Heaven to bar me
I'VE been to meeting three times week.
And almost always I'd rise to speak.
"Tve told the sinners about the day.
When they'd repent Of their eyii way,
I've told my reighbors-'ve told them all
Bout Adam and Eve and the primal fai,
I've shown them what they'd have TO do
II they'd pass In with the chosen few
| I've marked their path or buty clehf-
Laid out the plan for their whole career
1--WE. talked and talked to 'em loud and
For my lungs are good and my voice is
So. good ST, Peter. you win clearly see
| But my old man. / regret to say,
Hasn't walked in exactly the narrow way;
| He smokes and he swears. and grave
faults he's got
And l don't know whether he'll pass or
not.
HE never would pray with an earnest
or go to revival. or Join in a hymn.
! So. | had 10 leave him In sorrow there
While l. with the chosen. united in
He ate What the pantry CHANGED to afford,
| While /. in my purity. sang 20 tne Lord'
| And If cucumbcrs We're all he got.
| It's a chance II he merited them or not.
But. o. ST. Peter. love him SO.
| To the pleasures Of Heaven please let him
I've Done enough-a saint I've been.
| Won't that atone? Can't you let him
BY my grim Gospel. know tits 50,
| That the unrepentant must FRY below;
! But isn't there some way you can see
| That he may enter who's dear 10 me?
TITS narrow GOSPEL by which ! pray
| But the chosen expect to find sonta way,
| OF coaxing, or fOong, or bribingt YOU,
go that their rela tons can amoie through
| And say. ST. Peter. IL seems 10 mr.
| This Gate isn't kent as il ought to be;
You ought to stand right by the oening
And never sit down in that easy chair.
"And. say. st. Peter, my sight is dirlmed.
But I don't like the way your wfiskers
They're are e tT'mm foo wide and outwl toss.
They'd look better narrow, cut Straight
Well we must he going our crowd to win:
So, open, ST. Peter. and well pass in'
st. Peter sat quiet. and strcked his, stat
| But, spite OF his office. he had to laugh.
| Then said, with fiery CLEAN In his eye;
who's tending this gateway-you or /!
| And then he rose IN his stature tall
And pressed a button upon the wall
And said to the imp who answered the
Escort this lady around to hell"
The man stood stll as a piece OF stone
| Stood sadly, gloomily there alone,
| lifelong, settled idea he. had.
| That his wife was good and he was bad.
| He thought II the woman went down be-
That ne certainly would have to. go
That IL she went to the regions aim;
| There wasn't a ghost OF snow Tor hlin'
Slowly he turned, by habit bent
| To follow wherever the woman Went
st. Peter, standing in duty. there,
Observed that the top OF his mead was
| bare.
He called the gentleman back and said:
Friend, how long have you oeen wsd
| "Thirty years" with weary sigh
And then he thoughtfully added Why?
St. Peter was silent with head bent
He raised his hand and scratched his
Then seeming a different thought to take,
| Slowly half to himself ne spake:
Thirty years with that woman there
| No wonder the man hasn't any halr!
| Swearing Is wicked, smokes not good;
He smoked and swore-I should think ne
Thirty years with that tongue so sharp!
| Ho, Angel GABRIEL Give him harp!
| A jewelled harp, with golden string,
| Good sir, pass In, where the angels sing
| Gabriel. give him seat alone
| One with a cushion-up near the throne!
Call up some angels to pay the ras, pest
See that on finest ambrosia ne leeds.
| Hes had about all the hell he needs.
| IL isn't Just hardly the thing 10 do.
To roast him on earth and the future
too"
They gave him harp with golden strings
| A glittering robe. and a pair OF wings
And he said. as he entered the Realm oil
"Weli. this beats cucumbers, any way!
| And. so, the Scripture had come TO pass
That 1.-THE last shall be hrs'' ana the
hrse sha Ios g BERT SMILEY.