Artists were painting the scenes of worldly ease, and poets were writing
sweet verses for the singers of the place.
Miss Church-Member, who was a lover of the fine arts, asked Mr. World
to tarry in one of the gardens of the poets where they might hear the
songs of the season just from the pens of their authors.
This was a novel privilege; so he readily consented and accompanied
her into a garden near by. They were greeted by sounds of instrumental
music and charming voices raised in song.
After these harmonies died away a soloist sang a hymn that had been
composed that same day. Her voice rendered each word distinctly:
Remorse is but the foe of all,
The rich and poor, the slave and free
Unfriendly comes its bitter call--
Perchance it comes this day to thee.
Then come, thou troubled seeking peace
From this unkind, intruding foe;
Let anxious cares no more increase;
Go bury all thy pangs of woe.
Forget the things that wake thy mind
To fleeting sorrows of the day;
Oh! come and be forever blind
To all except this Broader Way.
Then followed a fiendish woman, in guise of a light-crowned angel, who
delivered an address entitled "The True Peace of the World.
Pages:
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91