Bitter-Sweet: A Poem Part 4

_Ruth_.

Ah, David! welcome sin?

_David_.

The fact of sin--so much;--it must needs be Offenses come; if woe to him by whom, Then with good reason; but the fact of sin Unlocked the door to highest destiny, That Christ might enter in and lead the way.

G.o.d loves not sin, nor I; but in the throng Of evils that a.s.sail us, there are none That yield their strength to Virtue's struggling arm With such munificent reward of power As great temptations. We may win by toil Endurance; saintly fort.i.tude by pain; By sickness, patience; faith and trust by fear; But the great stimulus that spurs to life, And crowds to generous development Each chastened power and pa.s.sion of the soul, Is the temptation of the soul to sin, Resisted, and re-conquered, evermore.

_Ruth_.

I am content; and now that I have caught Bright glimpses of the outlines of your scheme, As of a landscape, graded to the sky, And seen through trees while pa.s.sing, I desire No vision further till I make survey In some good time when I may come alone, And drink its beauty and its blessedness.

I've been forgetful in my earnestness, And wearied everyone with talk. These boys Are restive grown, or nodding in their chairs, And older heads are set, as if for sleep.

I beg their pardon for my theft of time, And will offend no more.

_David_.

Ruth, is it right To leave a brother in such a plight as this-- Either to imitate your courtesy, Or by your act to be adjudged a boor?

_Ruth_.

Heaven grant you never note a sin of mine Save of your own construction!

_Israel_.

Let it pa.s.s!

I see the spell of thoughtfulness is gone, Or going swiftly. I will not complain; But ere these lads are fastened to their games, And thoughts arise discordant with our theme, Let us with grat.i.tude approach the throne And wors.h.i.+p G.o.d. I wish once more to lead Your hearts in prayer, and follow with my own The leading of your song of thankfulness.

Then will I lease and leave you for the night To such divertis.e.m.e.nt as suits the time, And meets your humor.

[_They all arise and the old man prays_.]

_Ruth_.

[_After a pause_.]

David, let us see Whether your memory prove as true as mine.

Do you recall the promise made by you This night one year ago,--to write a hymn For this occasion?

_David_.

I recall, and keep.

Here are the copies, written fairly out.

Here,--father, Mary, Ruth, and all the rest; There's one for each. Now what shall be the tune?

_Israel_.

The old One Hundredth--n.o.blest tune of tunes!

Old tunes are precious to me as old paths In which I wandered when a happy boy.

In truth, they are the old paths of my soul, Oft trod, well worn, familiar, up to G.o.d.

THE HYMN.

[_In which all unite to sing_.]

For Summer's bloom and Autumn's blight, For bending wheat and blasted maize, For health and sickness, Lord of light, And Lord of darkness, hear our praise!

We trace to Thee our joys and woes-- To Thee of causes still the cause,-- We thank Thee that Thy hand bestows; We bless Thee that Thy love withdraws.

We bring no sorrows to Thy throne; We come to Thee with no complaint; In Providence Thy will is done, And that is sacred to the saint

Here on this blest Thanksgiving Night; We raise to Thee our grateful voice; For what Thou doest, Lord, is right; And thus believing, we rejoice.

_Grace_.

A good old tune, indeed, and strongly sung; But, in my mind, the man who wrote the hymn Had seemed more modest, had he paused a while.

Ere by a trick he furnished other tongues With words he only has the heart to sing.

_David_.

Oh, Grace! Dear Grace!

_Ruth_.

You may well cry for grace, If that's the company you have to keep.

_Grace_.

I thought you convert to his sophistry.

It makes no difference to him, you know, Whether I plague or please.

_Ruth_.

It does to you.

_Israel_.

There, children! No more bitter words like those!

I do not understand them; they awake A sad uneasiness within my heart.

I found but Christian meaning in the hymn; Aye, I could say _amen_ to every line, As to the breathings of my own poor prayer.

But let us talk no more. I'll to my bed.

Good-night, my children! Happy thoughts be yours Till sleep arrive--then happy dreams till dawn!

_All_.

Father, good-night!

[ISRAEL _retires_.]