We have done wrong, dear sister; for we have not patient been,
But answered often hasty words by hasty words again;
And when we should with gentle acts have soothed each other's care,
We've made by cold indifference our lot more hard to bear.
We have done wrong, dear sister; I remember how we've grieved
Our widowed mother's anxious heart, so long of joy bereaved;
O, were we loving, good, and kind, and all our murmurings o'er,
Might not the smiles come back again and light her face once more?
I know our lot in life, thus far, hath not been smooth and fair;
That often much of toil and ill has fallen to our share;
But why, dear sister, why should we ourselves the load increase?
Why, by our jangling and our strife, shut out all joy and peace?
And more: we have offended God; this day I feel and know
We have forgotten his commands, and gained us nought but woe.
O join with me as, filled with grief, most earnestly I pray,
That he will yet be merciful, and take our sin away.
"Love thou each other;" "love all men;" "and love shall make you free;"
Thus said the Savior, Jesus; and let this our watchword be;
Let us each other love; and pray that gentle thoughts may come,
And gentle words and acts may make an Eden of our home.
Forgive me now, dear sister, all the anger I have shown,
And all my past unkindness, through the years already flown;
I'll love thee faithfully and true, and lay all harshness by;
To be my loving sister, then, wilt thou not also try?
LITTLE EMMA.
One Saturday afternoon, little Emma came into her mother's room, and said to her, "Mother, may I go with Abba to her Sunday school? She says, they are all so happy there."