Victor Roy, a Masonic Poem by Harriet Annie Wilkins
page 24 of 91 (26%)
page 24 of 91 (26%)
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Where do you live? What there, in that wretched barn of a place!
A man who can rent such dens should meet the contempt of his race. What have you had to eat to-day? Why, how have you lived it out? Your mother and you did sewing; oh yes, at starvation prices, no doubt. Him? I know the man you have worked for then, he keeps his carriage and pair, Gives largely to missionary funds, and is long and loud in grayer. Never mind, the same All-Seeing Eye watches them come and go, That noted the whited sepulchre two thousand years ago. There, take that coffee and cake, and when you are rested I'll come And see what has to be done in your lonely, desolate home. And Jasper, you'll come along to take care of us both, and please bring Something to eat; a basket? yes, filled with every good thing. There, don't be long Jasper, time flies; yes, I know it is growing late, And Una and her lion have not so very long to wait. You used to read of Una, and wonder what made the lion stay; Lions are useful, Ethel, sometimes to keep the jackals away. Why child, are you ready so soon? Will you be my little guide? Oh, I cannot tell you the worth of this; do you know where your grandpa died? You would rather I bought it--all right--who is at home, only your mother, dear? A brother's daughter and orphan child must not perish while I am near. You knew that God would help you, have you learnt to trust and love Him too? There's another link between us then, ever old and ever new. You're afraid the storm will hurt me, you are used to the frosty air; We'll brave it together for once, so come little Ethel Adair. |
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