“Tell me, son, is this the body
That I gave you for awhile—
Given you so pure and holy,
You return it so defiled?”
“Master,” said the trembling soldier,
“In yonder world where I have been,
Daily I’ve encountered battle
With the daring monster, Sin.
“Each step I fought my journey through;
He strove to keep me from the goal;
Though he scored me yet I conquered;
Master, he’s not scarred the soul.”
The Master saw the soul still shining,
Thought of His own hand and side,
Beckoned to the brightest heaven
That the gate be opened wide.
Then the Master cried, “Immortal!”
The soul came flashing from his breast,
Pointing to the fairest heaven,
“Enter thou in peaceful rest!”
UNCLE IS’REL.
———
De peopl’ call me a conger,
Jus’ caus’ I do som’ tricks,
An’ caus’ I got dis lucky black cat bone,
Can gather roots to make tea wit’,
Not ’les’ dey talk ’o th’t,
Dey’s scared o’ me an’ say I tote load stone.
Don’ car’ wh’t I do noble,
No matter how I work,
Dey say de load stone don’ it jus’ de same.
Like wh’n I took Lucindy,
’Way from de ’fessor Jones,
Dey up an’ said I got hur wit’ some skeame.