A TRIBUTE TO
THE WOLFE SISTERS.
Music, the sweetest all-inspiring gift of God.
Is ever welcome to the prisoner's ear;
There's nothing makes me feel half so well
As music of the heart when sung with cheer.
Here in this prison as I sit and pore
Over the past and present of my life,
My heart sings ever, o'er and o'er,
The darkest bitterness of a prisoner's strife.
But hark! in yonder chapel shrine
I hear sweet music as of yore;
I ask, "What music is that sounds so fine?"
The answer comes, "The Wolfes are at the door!"
I hasten, then, to brush my prison garb,
And toilet try to fix as best I can,
And then unto the chapel wend my way;
When there upon the rostrum stand
Five of the sweetest singers of our day!