When life's long journey nears its end,
And friend so dear must part from friend,
To bathe deep in Thy living pool—
O God, wilt Thou help me in school?
Oh days of woe, oh do relent,
For all my sins I now repent,
To bathe in Siloam's ancient pool—
O God, right now help me in school.
Ah, when this stormy life is o'er,
I'll moor my bark on th' eternal shore;
Then shall I cross life's mortal pool,
And God will then help me in school!
BEHIND THE BARS
I am a pilgrim far from home,
A wanderer like Mars,
And thought my wanderings ne'er should come,
So fixed behind the bars!
I left my sunny Southern home
Beneath the silver stars;
A northward path began to roam,
Not seeking prison bars.
I sought a higher, holier life,
Which never virtue mars;
But Fate had spun a net of strife
For me behind the bars!
My mother's lowly thatched-roofed cot
My nobler senses jars;
And so I seek to aid her lot,
But not behind the bars!
'Tis said, forsooth, the poet learns
Through sufferings and wars
To sing the song which deepest burns
Behind the prison bars!