South Bend news-times. (South Bend, Ind.) 1913-1938, 1913-07-07
One Evening With Dear Old Fanny Crosby
Americas Famous Sunday School Songstress
BY MARY BOYLE O'RFTLLY.

d. 1l4AAkl ~ Il.
BRIDGEPORT Conn, July "a
golden sunset illumined the room in
which Fanny Crosby, the blind author
OF famous hymns. sat facing the glory
she could not see.
Diminutive as a child Of u, trem-
ulous under the weight OF her great
age. tender. selfless, utterly content
that IS Fanny Crosby at 90.
Her frail body IN its graceful gray
gown seemed almost ethereal: but the
blind little woman whose enduring
hymns have comforted thousands IS
still at work
only yesterday a publisher tele-
graphed me for a poem. and though
have worked for hours some Of the
lines simply viii not come" she said.
"I think" with a smile, that
must be getting old only. my dear
] beg that you do not write Of me as
aged and inhrm. -"
Her sweet, high laugh pealed mer-
rily. then the tender face grew grave.
All my life / have had so much.
After four score years and ten ] know
wretchedness only by hearsay; but.
oh. L hope ! have comfOrted some
who were heavily burdened.
That hope spurred me 10 the writ
ing of the hymns. But 1 have written
20 very many, probably 5000 in ALL
that IL is impossible TO remember most
OF them For that reason L have
often made laughable mistakes.
zone morning at Mortified the au-
dience sang, Hide Me, o My Savior.
Hide and / was so much pleased
with II that, turning 10 Mr. Sankey
asked. Where did you get that song p
Really he replied. you ought to
know. for you are the guilty author.
Generally when the melody is
given I choose my own subject for a
hNrrn
MY dear mothers death in 1890
suggested:
"'Over the River they call me.
Friends that are dear to my
heart;
Soon I shall meet them in glory.
Never. no never, to part
Again. the story of a Boston har-
Dor pilots dying word proved an in
spiration. I see the light he said
TO those who watched beside him,
and. hearing that last word, wrote:
"I see the Light. It's coming.
II breaks upon my soul;
It streams above the tempest
And ocean waves that roll
THAT many Of my hymns have been
dictated by the Holy Spirit L have
no doubt. Sometimes il seemed that
there was deep, clear we'll of in
spiration from which l was free to
draw. At other times the burden of
inspiration was almost too heavy.
Most Of my verses are written in
the night. Sometimes a hymn comes
to me by stanzas. and needs only to
be written down, but l never have
any part OF a poem committed to pa
per until the whole is composed.
The hymn, % Child Of God Wait
Patiently came into being at North
field Mr.. Sankey played a pretty
air and asked me TO write a poem, but
my mind seemed a blank. Next morn
ing, just when we were all going for
q drive, / asked TO be excused, and in
a few moments the words of the hymn
came in regular order, just as they
now stand:
80 Child of God. wait patiently,
When dark thy path may be
And let thy faith lean trustingly
on Him who cares for thee.
THE best Of my poems. the ones
that are my favorites. came as a COM
plete whole, needing no revision.
Just 45 years ago, in April, 1868,
an old and dear friend, when bidding
me gOOdby. said. I have just 40 min
utes before my train leaves for Gin
cinnati. Here is a melody. Can you
write words for it?' For 20 minutes
] was wholly unconscious of all else
except the work / was doing. At the
end OF that time / recited the words
TO Safe in the Arms OF Jesus"