Virginia citizen. (Irvington, Va.) 1891-1921, 1901-03-29

Inc ioliowipg poem, published SOM
years ago, is reproduced here by reques
of Rev. G. II. James, who offers Il as
flower upon the bier OF the late Arthur
Dignum, whose untimely end ushered
soul into eternity which had ne'er don,
harm to any but self:
CASUAL IMPRESSIONS.
''Len-The Wreck"
We knew him by the name Of Len,
And none could tell exactly when
His surname was the last time called
Within the village, mountain walled,
And sleeping like a hound at ease
Beneath blue skies and locust trees.
He trusnt played at ey'ry school,
And "BorD To live your days a fool"
His father said when aught could make
The son the narrow pathway take.
The years went by, and while there dieC
Full many through the countryside,
lie seemed TO liuger year by year
Men said the fellow was so low
That Death jus. gave to him a sneer,
And. passing BY, would let him gol
And after while his parents went
Their days in toll and yearning spent,
Convinced at last that Len would die
As he had lived, vagabond;
Though while they lived, anxiety
Would follow him, forever fond.
For It's truth we've knowledge Of
That death but chills parents lovei
He saw the homestead going down
That once enhanced the little town;
The hollyhocks his mother loved
He saw then, choked by alien weeds;
The orchard path which he had roved
Grew viewless with the swaying reeds
The catbirds which had loved TO sing
In many a dead and vanished spring,
Seemed now disposed the place to shur
Where lizards loitered in the sun;
The nightshshe twined about the door.
Where oft his mother sat and sung,
When love for him was strong as pure
AID Hope some rays about him flung
Rats undermined the old heartbstones
Where in the days she, angelwise,
Gazed in bis eyes and in soft tones
Would Groom her tender lullabys;
The spiders hung their nets around:
Across the bare floor hoped the toad
And what seemed once as holy ground
Was desolation's own abodel
III Len e'er noticed this, think
No sigh would melt and run In tesrs
He drank when men would give him drink
Nor seemed to heed the passing years.
But somehow all the children seemed
To love him, and their wee eyes beamed
With childish glee when he would romr
With them at twilight as the pomp
or spring or summertime made sweet
With fragrant blooms the village street
And now and then when he would make
Some little trinket out OF wood.
Some baby's ruby lips would wake
A long-hid sentiment OF good;
While little arms about his neck
Would sweeten living for "the wreck"
As age advanced, his eyes grew dim,
his struggling locks were waxing gray;
And there were threats of sending him
To seek the poorhouse. Men would say:
"He's squandered life and brought
distress
Upon his home through idleness;
'Tis just to let him pass away
As he's desired-but useless clay"
That creed Is mans, but God, we know
Who makes our sins as white SIS snow,
Is willing many times TO lend
The falling man a helping hand,
And, patient TO the journeys S end.
Points to the realms OF Beulahlandl
And Lens chin trembled as he said
g Let me remain here with my dead
/ who have suffered through the wears.
Yet vexed no living human ears!'
De lived within an alley dark,
And there one winter night passed.
Far of, the watchdog's lonely bark;
Above, the skies with clouds o'ercast.
And as paused beside his door,
i saw him sitting, bending o. 'er
The brushwood fire, whose timid glow
Sent shadows dancing to and fro.
His face was resting on his hand,
His hair uncombed and struggling, and
He hummed few words of strain
Hummed and rehummed them Ger again:
"Clasped to your heart
In a loving embrace,
With your light lashes
Just sweeping your face,
Never hereafter
To wake or to weep
Rock me to sleep, mother,
Rock me to sleep~
That night the greatest snowstorm
known
Came sweeping DER each field and fen
And winds rushed by with fearful moan
And startled every hill and glen;
And, late, l heard a cry OF fright
From one whose six-year lad was lost,
He'd tried to cross the street that night
While homeward bound-but soon was
toss'd
A victim to the storm-fiend's will,
Which boded for all creatures ill
We searched the village everywhere,
Then giving up in our despair,
we turned our footsteps home once more
When family through the gusty roar
We heard low and wailing sound
And thus the lad-and Len-were foundl
The boy was warm, and round him thrown
The tattered coat that Len had dotted;
But from the man the breath had flown
The wreck" that we had often scoffed!
lie heard the little wanderers cry.
And, saving him, went out to die.
w ell, there were many tear-drops when
The poor old form was hid from men;
And somehow we all love to say
That one who loved the children so,
Was bound some noble traits to know
And God-perhaps he thinks that way.
Wiu 4. Hale.
A SERMON.