PARTING WITH THE SAINTS.
I see pale faces looking out of cars,
I hear the whistle shriek—the start and jar,
And the train, with its load of human freight
Fades from my sight, but still I wait.
Stand and look to the dim, dark, west,
With an aching head, and a throbbing breast,
Till a streak of smoke, like a thread in the sky,
Marks the path where the loved ones fly—
Flying by steam, with the speed of a dove,
To the Zion of God—the land that I love;
O beautiful scene, sweet vision of light,
To follow the Saints in their gathering flight.The beautiful parks and fields are passed,
With the ripening grain, and waving grass—
The hill's green-sward, and the forest grove,
The singing birds, and bleating droves;
A thousand scenes so dear to the eye,
Appear like a dream as we pass them by.We will not speak of the "mocking throng,"
The tained oath and bacchanal song,
The crying for bread, the tattered clothes—
All these we leave with Babylon's woes.
But we'll speak of the songs that ring in my ear—
"O Zion, dear Zion" and "Cheer, Saints, Cheer"—
"There is a land in Utah that I remember well,
And there the Saints in joy and peace, and plenty ever dwell,"
O may it prove a chosen land, to the dear ones going there—
And to this weary care-worn band, be ever bright and fair!I cannot help but wish them well,
And yet my thoughts I cannot tell.
Beginning with Jones, who rang the bell,
The "out-door meetings" cried so well,
Swelling the audience by his loud tones—
Who can forget the crier, Jones?
Next in the list comes Jenkin Thomas,
Who pegged men's soles and pegged them honest.
His smiling face I loved to see,
He always looked so good to me;
And if the face is index true
To secret thought and actions, too,
Then Jenkin Thomas, as sure as grace,
Was "predestined" to win the race.
And John D. Evans, honest man,
Merits a name among the band.
Oft has his voice rang on the breeze,
Seeking not man, but God, to please.
And D. R. Gill, whose voice inspires
To actions, worthy of our sires:
Small in stature, but large in soul—
His birthright he has never sold;
It lies 'mong "Everlasting Hills,"
By crystal lakes, and mountain rills.
In Joseph's land, which, long concealed,
By Jehovah's word is now revealed.
There honey and milk and oil and wine
Are blessings Ephraim's children find;
And finding, bless their Father and Cod
"For the Strength of the Hills, and the Mountain sod."
And now, goodbye to one and all—
Parents, children, great and small.
I've said my say, and now I go,
The seeds of truth again to sow;
Scattering it with liberal hands
As I have done in other lands.
These smiling faces I'll see no more
Until we meet on Zion's shore.
Will they forget? and you, dear Kate
Wilt ever linger "at the garden gate?"
And think of him, who at Ponty Pridd,
Proved friend to thee, and brother indeed?
Oft will he long for thy voice again—
But, goodbye friends, here's the downward train.
On Saturday, June 29th, I went to Lockersley and visited Brother Paddock. At seven p.m. we were visited with one of the heaviest rain storms that ever I have seen. The water seemed to fall in sheets, and soon the streets were like young rivers. Heavy thunder and lightning accompanied the rain. I was thankful that I was under shelter. Sunday, June 30th, I walked into Southampton in time for meeting; found Elder Connelly and friends well. July 2nd, I held evening cottage meeting at Shirley, and had a good time. July 3rd, I went on to Brother Quinton's. Here I parted with Elder Connelly: he walked on to London, while I returned to Southampton.
Chapter 26.
Conditions at Orderville.—Letter to E. M. Webb, on Politics.—Visit Winchester's Cathedral.—Pass Through the Tower of London.—Letter from President William Budge.—Mobbed at Albourne.
July 4, 1878, a quiet peaceable day, I baptized Miss Eliza Combs, also Mrs. Powell and her daughter. It is a comfort, while gleaning, to find, once in a while, a cluster of fruit. I also received letters from home. Newell is very poor in health. I fasted and prayed that he might be healed, and live to be an active worker in the vineyard of our Lord. Today he is an intelligent worker in Church and education lines.
Orderville, May 21, 1878.
"Elder John R. Young. Dear Brother: It is with pleasure I seat myself to write to you at this time. Health prevails in our midst, and seemingly there is nothing but prosperity awaiting us; and yet the power of the adversary is not overcome, by any means.
"I have taken great delight in hearing your descriptive letters. One can almost imagine himself at the places you mention, looking at, instead of hearing of them. I am in hopes that you and Brother Claridge will soon be released. You are needed here. We have had close times this winter in food and clothing; but if I can see the future right, as I believe I can, our worst days of poverty are past.