Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1910-03-03
ST. PETER STOOD AT THE GOLDEN
GAZE.


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 a scraggy beard upon her chin,
The man was short, and thick, and |
stout;
His stomach was built so it rounded
out;
His face was pleasant, and all the
while
He wore a kindly and genial smile,
The choirs in the distance the echoes
awoke;
And the man kept still while the wo-
man spoke.
20 thou who guardeth the gate!' said
She
I'VE two come hither beseeching thee
To let us enter the heavenly land,
And play our harps with the angel
band.
OF me, st. Peter, there is no doubt;
There's nothing from Heaven to bar
me out,
I've been to meeting three times a !
week,
And almost always I'd rise to speak.
Eve told the sinners about the day
When they'd repent of their evil way;
I've told my neighbors-I've told them
Bout Adam and Eve and their primal
fall
I've shown them what they'd have to
do
If they'd pass in with the chosen few
I've marked their path of duty clear
Laid out the plan for their whole ca
reer.
1--WE talked and talked to 'em loud
and long,
For my lungs are good and my voice is
strong.
So, good st. Peter, you will clearly see,
The Gate of Heaven is open to me.
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 I don't know whether he'll pass
or not.
HE never would pray with an earnest
vim,
Or go to revival. or join in a hymn,
So | had to leave him in sorrow there
WhileI with the chosen united in
prayer.
He ate what the pantry CHANGED to
afford
While ] in my purity sang to tn eLord;
And if cucumbers were all he got,
It's chance if he merited them or not.
A"But, 0 St. Peter! I.love him SO;
TO the pleasures of Heaven please let
him go,
I've done enough-a saint I've been
Won't that atone? Can't you let him
in?
BY my grim gospel / know it's so
That the unrepentent must fry below;
But isn't there some way you can see
That he may enter who's dear to me?
TITS a narrow gospel by which l pray,
But the chosen expect to find some way
OF coaXing, or fooling, or bribing you
So that their relations can amble
through
And, say, St. Peter, it seems to me
This gate isn't kept as it ought to ese.
You ought to stand right by the open
ing there,
And never sit down in that easy chair.
And say, st. Peter, my sight is dim
med,
But I don't like the way your whiskers
are trimmed;
They're cut too wide and outward toss;
They'd look better narrow, cut straight
across,
Wei, we must be going our crown to
win,
SO, open. St. Peter, and wen pass in. .
st. Peter sat quiet and stroked his
staff
But in spite of his office he had to
laugh;
Then said, with a fiery CLEAN in his
Who's tending this gateway-you or
II"
And then he rose in his stature tall
And pressed button upon the wall,
And said to the Imp who answered the
bell:-
Escort the lady around to He'll"
The man stood still as piece of
stone
Stood sadly, gloomiIy 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 certainly he would have to go
That if she went to the regions dim
There wasn't a ghost of a chance for
him
Slowly he turned, by habit bent,
To follow wherever the woman went
st. Peter, standing on duty there,
Observed that the top of his head was
bare.
He called the gentleman back and
said -
Friend, how long have you been Z.
wed?"
Thirty years" with a weary sigh,
And then he thoughtfully added
"Why?"
st. Peter was silent. With head bent
down,
He raised his hand and scratched his
crown;
Then, seeming different thought to
take,
Slowly, half to himself, he spake:-
Thirty years with that woman there?l
No wonder the man hasn't any hair!
Swearing is wicked, smokes not good
He smoked and he swore-I should
think HE would!
Thirty years with that tongue so
sharp!
Ho, Angel Gabriel, give him a harp!