| |
| IF I shall ever win the home in heaven | |
| For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray, | |
| In the great company of the forgiven | |
| I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray. | |
| |
| I knew him well; in truth, few knew him better; | 5 |
| For my young eyes oft read for him the Word, | |
| And saw how meekly from the crystal letter | |
| He drank the life of his beloved Lord. | |
| |
| Old Daniel Gray was not a man who lifted | |
| On ready words his freight of gratitude, | 10 |
| Nor was he called as one among the gifted, | |
| In the prayer-meetings of his neighborhood. | |
| |
| He had a few old-fashioned words and phrases, | |
| Linked in with sacred texts and Sunday rhymes; | |
| And I suppose that in his prayers and graces | 15 |
| I ’ve heard them all at least a thousand times. | |
| |
| I see him now—his form, his face, his motions, | |
| His homespun habit, and his silver hair,— | |
| And hear the language of his trite devotions, | |
| Rising behind the straight-backed kitchen chair. | 20 |
| |
| I can remember how the sentence sounded— | |
| “Help us, O Lord, to pray and not to faint!” | |
| And how the “conquering and to conquer” rounded | |
| The loftier aspirations of the saint. | |
| |
| He had some notions that did not improve him: | 25 |
| He never kissed his children—so they say; | |
| And finest scenes and fairest flowers would move him | |
| Less than a horse-shoe picked up in the way. | |
| |
| He had a hearty hatred of oppression, | |
| And righteous words for sin of every kind; | 30 |
| Alas, that the transgressor and transgression | |
| Were linked so closely in his honest mind! | |
| |
| He could see naught but vanity in beauty, | |
| And naught but weakness in a fond caress, | |
| And pitied men whose views of Christian duty | 35 |
| Allowed indulgence in such foolishness. | |
| |
| Yet there were love and tenderness within him; | |
| And I am told that when his Charley died, | |
| Nor nature’s need nor gentle words could win him | |
| From his fond vigils at the sleeper’s side. | 40 |
| |
| And when they came to bury little Charley | |
| They found fresh dew-drops sprinkled in his hair, | |
| And on his breast a rose-bud gathered early, | |
| And guessed, but did not know, who placed it there. | |
| |
| Honest and faithful, constant in his calling, | 45 |
| Strictly attendant on the means of grace, | |
| Instant in prayer, and fearful most of falling, | |
| Old Daniel Gray was always in his place. | |
| |
| A practical old man, and yet a dreamer, | |
| He thought that in some strange, unlooked for way | 50 |
| His mighty Friend in Heaven, the great Redeemer, | |
| Would honor him with wealth some golden day. | |
| |
| This dream he carried in a hopeful spirit | |
| Until in death his patient eye grew dim, | |
| And his Redeemer called him to inherit | 55 |
| The heaven of wealth long garnered up for him. | |
| |
| So, if I ever win the home in heaven | |
| For whose sweet rest I humbly hope and pray, | |
| In the great company of the forgiven | |
| I shall be sure to find old Daniel Gray. | 60 |
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