III
And ever see the op’ning hour of school,
And hear the bell sound on the morning air,
And see each little one with reticule
And well-trained poise and step assembling there,
And each pale-faced teacher in her place
And all the children there on bended knees,
With innocence imprinted on each face,
And hear their prayer borne on the morning breeze,
And hear the glass and falling timbers crash,
And see the children through the windows leap
With blood fast flowing from each gaping gash
Upon their heads and faces, long and deep;
And fain am I to fall into despair
That scenes so sad should follow children’s prayer.
IV
And ever see the blinded lying low
At Bellevue, Camp Hill, and College Hall;
And ever see the corpses, row on row,
Their mangled faces covered with a pall:
And curses such as tongue could never speak
Rise in my heart and flutter through my mind
Upon the man who did such ruin wreak
And leave such grief and misery behind;
And then a change comes o’er my angry thought
And I can see outlined upon the Cross
The Man of Sorrows, and I think of what
He did that Death be not our loss;
And bowing down I cry on bended knee
My Lord, my God, I yet have faith in Thee.
LIFE IS BUT ONE DARN THING AFTER ANOTHER.
I
Whether in childhood or when you grow older,
Whether in summer or when it grows colder,
Whether in sunshine or lightning and thunder,
Be it on land or sea over or under,
Whether winter frosts freeze you or summer heat smother,
This you will find until life’s cord will sunder,
Life is but one darn thing after another.