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THE DISTRICT VISIT.
I entered the humble homes of those,
Whose lot is to struggle with toils and woes;
And care, and want, and sorrow, and sin
Are the fearful inmates that dwell therein;
With a deathless hope, though with trembling feet,
I entered, those awful guests to meet!
Whose lot is to struggle with toils and woes;
And care, and want, and sorrow, and sin
Are the fearful inmates that dwell therein;
With a deathless hope, though with trembling feet,
I entered, those awful guests to meet!
I entered, firm in the blissful faith,
That love is stronger than sin or death;
That accents breathed in a kindly voice
Can make the coldest hearts rejoice;
And the fountains of human hope gush forth,
And the spirit arise from the chains of earth.
That love is stronger than sin or death;
That accents breathed in a kindly voice
Can make the coldest hearts rejoice;
And the fountains of human hope gush forth,
And the spirit arise from the chains of earth.
I entered—the pale cheek grew more bright,
As I spoke of a purer and better light;
The mother hushed her babe to rest,
Once more, on the cradle of her breast;
And the father, who had repulsed his child,
Called the little weeper, with accents mild.
As I spoke of a purer and better light;
The mother hushed her babe to rest,
Once more, on the cradle of her breast;
And the father, who had repulsed his child,
Called the little weeper, with accents mild.
