LITTLE MARY AND HER WICKED FATHER.
“What shall I do? What shall I do?” the wicked father said,
As in agony of spirit he rose up from his bed,
And earnestly entreated his wife to kneel and pray;
Alas! dear Mary’s mother had ne’er been taught the way.
“I cannot pray, dear husband,” the trembling wife replied.
“Oh, then, what can I do?” in bitterness he cried.
“Perhaps,” she said, “our Mary has learned to say her prayers,
She seems so good and holy.” He hastened up the stairs
Where slept that young disciple, a child of seven years;
Her father gently woke her, then, bursting into tears,
He said, “O, can you pray, my child; has Jesus taught you how?
And will you try to pray for your poor father, now?”
She knelt, put up her little hands, “Our Father up in heaven,”
She sweetly said, “for Jesus’ sake, let father be forgiven;
Have mercy, blessed Savior, wash all his sins away,
And send thy Holy Spirit to teach him how to pray.”
That father rose in penitence, sweet thoughts within him stirred,
A yearning, warm desire to hear from God’s own Word
Those precious truths she thus had lisped in accents sweet and mild;
He placed the Bible in her hand; “Take this and read my child.”
She read the holy Book, and, at that midnight hour,
God sent his blessed Spirit to seal it home with power;
Those sweet words of the loving John, that “all who look may live,”[4]
He heard, and said, “Dear Mary, can Jesus now forgive?”
“Oh listen, father! ‘God so loved,’ he sent his only Son,
And all who now believe on that dear, blessed One,
The Lamb of God, shall never die, shall have their sins forgiven,
And he will take them home at last, to dwell with him in heaven.”
“That is for me!” he cried; “for sinners just like me;
I will look up to Jesus now,—Savior, I come to thee;
I hear those blessed words, ‘Come unto me and live;’
I can believe,—I do believe! Dear Jesus now forgive.”
Yes, look to Christ, believing one, he whispers now you may.
He heard, and went, from that glad hour, rejoicing on his way.
