REPENTANCE. Hang it ! if all the rich men I ever see or knew Come here with all their traps, boy, an' offered 'em for you, 385 REPENTANCE. IF the Lord were to send down blessings from heaven as thick and as fast as the fall Of the drops of rain or the flakes of snow, I'd love Him and thank Him for all; But the gift that I'd crave, and the gift that I'd keep, if I'd only one to choose, Is the gift of a broken and contrite heart,-and that He will not refuse. For what is my wish and what is my hope, when I've toiled and prayed and striven, All the days that I live upon earth? It is this-to be forgiven. And what is my wish and what is my hope, but to end where I begin, With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin! Well, perhaps you think I am going to say I'm the chief of sinners; and then You'll tell me, as far as you can see, I'm no worse than other men. I've little to do with better or worse-I haven't to judge the rest; If other men are no better than I, they are bad enough at the best. I've nothing to do with other folks; it isn't for me to say day; But we know that it wasn't for such as they that the kingdom of heaven was meant; And we're told we shall likewise perish unless we do repent. And what have I done, perhaps you'll say, that I should fret and grieve? I didn't wrangle, nor curse, nor swear; I didn't lie nor thieve; For some of these I hadn't a mind, and some didn't come in my way. For there's many a thing I could wish undone, though the law might not be broken; And there's many a word, now I come to think, that I could wish unspoken. I did what I thought to be the best, and I said just what came to my mind; I wasn't so honest that I could boast, and I'm sure that I wasn't kind. Well, come to things that I might have done, and then there'll be more to say; We'll ask for the broken hearts I healed, and the tears that I wiped away. I thought for myself and I wrought for myself-for myself, and none beside: Just as if Jesus had never lived, as if He had never died. But since my Lord has looked on me, and since He has bid me look Once on my heart and once on my life and once on His blessed Book, And once on the cross where He died for me, He has taught me that I must mend, If I'd have Him to be my Saviour, and keep Him to be my Friend. Since He's taken this long account of mine and has crossed it through and through, Though He's left me nothing at all to pay, He has given me enough to do; He has taught me things that I never knew, with all my worry and care, Things that have brought me down to my knees, and things that will keep me there. THE FIREMAN'S STORY. 387 He has shown me the law that works in Him and the law that works in me,— Life unto life and death unto death-and has asked how these agree; He has made me weary of self and of pelf; yes, my Saviour has bid me grieve For the days and years when I didn't pray, when I didn't love nor believe. Since He's taken this cold, dark heart of mine, and has pierced it through and through, He has made me mourn both for things I did and for things that I didn't do; And what is my wish and what is my thought, but to end where I begin, With an eye that looks to my Saviour, and a heart that mourns for its sin! THE FIREMAN'S STORY. "A FRIGHTFUL face?" Wal, yes, yer correct; Don't pack the handsomest countenance- But I tell you, pard, thar ain't money enough To buy that face-nor a single scar— Yes, Jim is an old-time engineer, An' a better one never war knowed! An' thar ain't a galoot that pulls a plug "Git hurt in a mash-up?" No, 'twar done In sort o' legitimate way; He got it a-tryin' to save a gal Up yer on the road last May. I heven't much time fur to spin you the yarn, For we pull out at two twenty-five- Jim war pullin' the Burlin'ton passenger then, An' war skinnin' along purty lively, so's not The "90" war more than a-'hoopin' 'em up, When all to once Jim yelled "Merciful God!" I jumped to his side o' the cab, an' ahead, Stood a gal on the track, her hands raised aloft, It seems she war too paralyzed with the fright I'll never forgit till the day o' my death The look that cum over Jim's face; He throw'd the old lever cla'r back like a shot Then let on the air-brakes as quick as a flash, An' skinned 'long the runnin' board cla'r in front, Then jist as we reached whar the poor creetur' lay, He grabbed a tight hold of her arm, An' raised her right up so's to throw her one side, Out o' reach of danger an' harm. THE FIREMAN'S STORY. But somehow he slipped an' fell with his head As soon as we stopped I backed up the train The tears rolled in torrents right down from her eyes, I tell you, my friend, such a sight as that ar We put Jim aboard an' run back to town, But nursin' an' doctorin' brought him around— Of course thar's a sequel-as story-books say- But he hadn't the heart to ax her to have Sich a batter'd-up rooster as him. She know'd how he felt, an' last New Year's Day So she jist cornered Jim an' proposed on the spot, He's buildin' a house up thar on the hill, An' has laid up a snug pile o' cash; The gal says he risked his dear life to save hers, An' give him the life that he saved-thar's the bell. 389 |