I HEARD a voice in the gloaming-time Singing out in the lonely street; The notes rose up in a wailing chime, Then fell with a sadness sweet. I listen'd awhile and my heart was stirr'd, 'Twas a song of sorrow and pain, I gently stole out in the darkness and heard The last of the touching strain -- "Father above! Hear me to-night, My mother I would save, Cold is our home, no fire, no light, Give me of bread, I crave." I heard a voice in a dingy room, Crying out in a dying tone, "My child, my child, how deep is the gloom, Come back to your mother, lone." A footstep was heard on the creaking stair, And a shout -- "O mother! I come;" But a weeping child breath'd in silence a prayer, As a mother-soul went home -- "Father above! Hear me to-night, O with Thy child abide; I'm but a sinner in Thy sight, Be Thou my only guide." I saw a child by a grave-side stand, And the tears from her bright eyes fell, As the sexton old, with a kindly hand, Hid all that she loved so well; Then wandering away from a scene so dark, To a world all bright and fair, Like the weary dove coming back to the ark, God had a friend waiting there -- "I thank Thee, Father, God of Love, For all Thy tender care; I know that Thou in heaven above Hast heard the orphan's prayer." |