No luv, no light, no joy, no hope, no songs of glad delight,
An’ then—the tramp, he swaggered down an’ reeled out into the night!
But we knew he’d tol’ his story, tho’ he never spoke a word,
An’ it was the saddest story thet our ears had ever heard;
He hed tol’ his own life history, an’ no eye was dry thet day,
W’en the elder rose an’ simply said: “My brethren, let us pray.”
S. W. Foss.
COMIN’ THRO’ THE RYE.
