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قراءة كتاب The Arm Chair
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اللغة: English
الصفحة رقم: 7
"Oh, my mother!" trembled on her tongue;
Then the freed spirit passed—and beauteous lay
The rifled casket, lovely in decay!
Widows and orphans ye may mourn indeed!
Who now shall clothe you, who the hungry feed?
Yes! show your garments, tattered ones, and say,
These Sansom gave us in a wintry day.
From the bleak storm she clothed the shivering frame,
When sickness pressed with healing cordials came;
When age went tottering with no hand to save,
She gave the crutch supporting to the grave!
No cold philosophy was her's, to dream
Of Benthem's theory or Malthus's scheme,
As the heart prompted, the concurring hand
Obeyed, instinctively, each kind command.
When streams of suffering ran beside her door,
The bitter waters lost their nauseous power;
The prophet's salt she in the current threw,
And soft and sweet the changing waters grew.
Careful her Master's bounty to bestow,
A faithful stewardship of gifts to show,
That she might hear that language at the close,
"To me ye did it, as ye did to those!"
Who now shall clothe you, who the hungry feed?
Yes! show your garments, tattered ones, and say,
These Sansom gave us in a wintry day.
From the bleak storm she clothed the shivering frame,
When sickness pressed with healing cordials came;
When age went tottering with no hand to save,
She gave the crutch supporting to the grave!
No cold philosophy was her's, to dream
Of Benthem's theory or Malthus's scheme,
As the heart prompted, the concurring hand
Obeyed, instinctively, each kind command.
When streams of suffering ran beside her door,
The bitter waters lost their nauseous power;
The prophet's salt she in the current threw,
And soft and sweet the changing waters grew.
Careful her Master's bounty to bestow,
A faithful stewardship of gifts to show,
That she might hear that language at the close,
"To me ye did it, as ye did to those!"
A pillar of the church, erect and strong,
Swayed by no friendship to the church's wrong;
Unwarped, unmoved, sound to the very core,
And rendered firmer by the weight he bore;
An honest watchman the alarm to sound,
When foes were sowing tares within our ground,—
Or rootless plants luxuriously would shoot
In spreading branches, and produce no fruit,—
Was Evans. Oft the archers' bows were bent,
To turn the veteran from his firm intent;
Their malice moved not, and their threats were vain,
Fixed at his post determined to remain:
And when at last the final goal was won,
Death's message found him with his armour on;
No oilless lamp to trim, no loins to gird,
Ready to enter at the Bridegroom's word,
Where his loved Hannah, earlier called away,
Was his forerunner to the realms of day.
Swayed by no friendship to the church's wrong;
Unwarped, unmoved, sound to the very core,
And rendered firmer by the weight he bore;
An honest watchman the alarm to sound,
When foes were sowing tares within our ground,—
Or rootless plants luxuriously would shoot
In spreading branches, and produce no fruit,—
Was Evans. Oft the archers' bows were bent,
To turn the veteran from his firm intent;
Their malice moved not, and their threats were vain,
Fixed at his post determined to remain:
And when at last the final goal was won,
Death's message found him with his armour on;
No oilless lamp to trim, no loins to gird,
Ready to enter at the Bridegroom's word,
Where his loved Hannah, earlier called away,
Was his forerunner to the realms of day.
So too our Sheppard,[4] when she heard the cry,
Her wings expanding sought her home on high;
One thought upon a faithful sufferer cast,
Told her own hopes—then to her audit past.
Her wings expanding sought her home on high;
One thought upon a faithful sufferer cast,
Told her own hopes—then to her audit past.
Amid the terrors of that evil hour,
When Infidelity put forth its power,
Though meek of manners and of gentle heart,
Jane Bettle played a Christian soldier's part.
When Infidelity put forth its power,
Though meek of manners and of gentle heart,
Jane Bettle played a Christian soldier's part.