The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 18??-19??, 1915-02-16

Do ye hear the children weeping, 0 my brothers,
They t are t iean IGrTG their ho Tou 5wl heads Sssa against their mother.
49, And that cannot stop their tears.
The T T6en Hoa lambs sir are a pte ssHpgin in the tn ,b me ne d
The young faxns + PLAYING With the shadows:
Blu, The Thu y yS"ns 5 aS%sFs cn add s1eT . ny tG SrofSeT Tns west;
They ~ are ths weeping eepn}gx in a. the he p fass of the others.
Do YOU question the young en53srsn in the sorrow.
The old man may weep for his tomorrow
The % Ud sree is is 'S isad len long in th age Forest;
The 1 1s S ss near # is st sndjea ' is the the f asSsst:
The old hope is hardest to Be lost; +,.
vaea DO you eors ask hst them {b why Sot tney s ST. their mothers ,
In our happy fatherland?
For all day the wheels + droning, turning;
Till our hearts turn, our heads With pulses burning.
Turns ah the a sky VA a the eof high III Window iedf p'S Blank and reeling.
Turn All ihs ar s,> tann 14ss s ai the ssa Say: ai snd WI vse S sfih'1 ali.
And sometimes we could pray,
Stop. be silent for today"
50 the ro 5 5Son up o to H Vino sna efns all the others
They v aP5x9 tie "w yyaS,6 is S Of ir5 5na xb he snG is shr nsaT US
When we sob aloud. the human creatures near US
And P ws h by; h not nor n tse Q ~ " seSwf in 5h os "a r wa5ai
is it S liEe'5 God sp$ @its sa az 8 sns3as round him,
Hears our weeping any more?
Two words, indeed, Of praying we remember:
And at midnights hour of harm,
Our Father looking upward in the chamber,
We say softly for a charm.
We know no other words except Our Father:
God may pluck them with the silence sweet to gather.
And hold both within his right hand, which is strong
Our Father If he heard us. he would surely
Cor they call him good and mildly
Answer, smiling down the steep world very purely,
Come and rest with me, my child
But; no" say the children weeping faster,
HE is speeches. as a stone;
And they tell us. of his image is the master
Who commands u S to work on.
go TO-" say the children,-up in heaven,
Dark, whee1-like, turning clouds are all we find.
Do not mock US: grief has made US unbelieving:
We look up for God; but tears have made US blind.
Do you hear the children weeping and disproving,
0 my brothers, what ye preach?
For Gods possible is taught by his worlds loving
And the children doubt of each.
And we'll may the children weep before YOU
They are weary ere they run;
They have never seen the sunshine, nor the glory
Which is brighter than the sun.
They know the grief Of man, without its wisd ON:
They sink in mans despair, without it's calm;
Are slaves, without the liberty in Christdom;
Are martyrs, by the pang without the palm:
Are worn as if with age, yet unretrievingly
The harvest of its memories cannot reap:
Are orphans of the earthly love and heavenly
Let them weep, let them weep.
They look up with their pale and sunken faces,
And their look is dread to see.
For they mind you of their angels in high places.
With eyes turned on Deity.
How long they say, how long, O cruel nation,
Will you stand, to move the world OF a childs heart
Stifle down with a mailed heel it's palpitation.
And tread onward to your throne amid the mart?
our blood splashes upward. O goldheaper,
And your purple shows your path,
But the chllds sob in the silence curses deeper
Than the strong man in his wrath"
TR NJ 6or,n-l 49,,