The word of judgment is not sure,
To wealth and station high,
But that she was alone and poor,
Was she condemned to die.
O God of justice! for whose grace
The servile worldlings fawn,
Has not thy love a hiding-place
For such as Hester Vaughn?
Come to the bar of Judgment, come,
Ye favored ones of earth,
And let your haughty lips be dumb,
So boastful of your worth.
What virtues, or what noble deeds,
Your faithless lives adorn,
That thus by laws, or lifeless creeds,
You sentence Hester Vaughn?
What countless crimes, what guilt untold,
What depths of sin and shame,
Are gilded by your lying gold,
Or hidden by a name!
Ye pave your social hells with skulls
Of Infants yet unborn;
Then virtuous wrath suspicion lulls,
And crushes Hester Vaughn.
Ye, who your secret sins confess,
Before the Eternal Throne—
Adulterer and Adulteress!
What mercy have ye shown?
For place and power, for gems and gold,
Ye give your souls in pawn,
But Heaven’s fair gates will first unfold
To such as Hester Vaughn.
The “mills of God that grind so slow,”
Will “grind exceeding small;”
And time, at length, will clearly show
The want or worth of all.
Distinctions will not always be
With such precision drawn,
Between the proud of high degree
And such as Hester Vaughn.
Through Moyamensing’s prison bars,[2]
She counts each weary day,
Or ’neath the calmly watching stars,
She wakes to weep and pray.
Thank God! for her in heaven above,
A brighter day will dawn,
And those who judge all hearts in love,
Will welcome Hester Vaughn.
SONG OF THE SPIRIT CHILDREN.
Let us sing the praise of Love—
Holy Spirit! Heavenly Dove!
Bringing on its blesséd wings
Life to all created things.
Wheresoe’er its light is shed,
Sorrow lifts its drooping head,
And the tears of grief that start
Turn to sunshine in the heart.
Love divine,
All things are thine!
Every creature seeks thy shrine.
And thy boundless blessings fall
With an equal love on all.
Let us sing the praise of Love,
Everywhere—around, above;
Watching with its starry eyes,
From the blue of boundless skies,
Heeding when the lowly call,
Mindful of a sparrow’s fall,
Writing on the flower-wreathed sod,
“God is love, and love is God.”
Love divine,
All things are thine!
Every creature seeks thy shrine!
And thy boundless blessings fall
With an equal love on all.