“Fishers Of Men.”

I had a dream, a varied dream: Before my ravished sight The city of my Lord arose, With all its love and light.

The music of a myriad harps Flowed out with sweet accord; And saints were casting down their crowns In homage to our Lord.

My heart leaped up with untold joy; Life’s toil and pain were o’er; My weary feet at last had found The bright and restful shore.

Just as I reached the gates of light, Ready to enter in, From earth arose a fearful cry Of sorrow and of sin.

I turned, and saw behind me surge A wild and stormy sea; And drowning men were reaching out Imploring hands to me.

And ev’ry lip was blanched with dread And moaning for relief; The music of the golden harps Grew fainter for their grief.

Let me return, I quickly said, Close to the pearly gate; My work is with these wretched ones, So wrecked and desolate.

An angel smiled and gently said: This is the gate of life, Wilt thou return to earth’s sad scenes Its weariness and strife,

To comfort hearts that sigh and break, To dry the falling tear, Wilt thou forego the music sweet Entrancing now thy ear?

I must return, I firmly said, The struggles in that sea Shall not reach out beseeching hands In vain for help to me.

I turned to go; but as I turned The gloomy sea grew bright, And from my heart there seemed to flow Ten thousand cords of light.

And sin-wrecked men, with eager hands, Did grasp each golden cord; And with my heart I drew them on To see my gracious Lord.

Again I stood beside the gate. My heart was glad and free; For with me stood a rescued throng The Lord had given me.

SIGNING THE PLEDGE.

Do you see this cup—this tempting cup— Its sparkle and its glow? I tell you this cup has brought to me A world of shame and woe.

Do you see that woman sad and wan? One day with joy and pride, With orange blossoms in her hair, I claimed her as my bride.

And vowed that I would faithful prove Till death our lives should part; I’ve drenched her soul with floods of grief, And almost crushed her heart.

Do you see that gray-haired mother bend Beneath her weight of years? I’ve filled that aged mother’s eyes With many bitter tears.

Year after year for me she prays, And tries her child to save; I’ve almost brought her gray hairs down In sorrow to the grave.

Do you see that boy whose wistful eyes Are gazing on my face? I’ve overshadowed his young life With sorrow and disgrace.

He used to greet me with a smile, His heart was light and glad; I’ve seen him tremble at my voice, I’ve made that heart so sad.

Do you see this pledge I’ve signed to-night? My mother, wife, and boy Shall read my purpose on that pledge And smile through tears of joy.

To know this night, this very night, I cast the wine-cup down, And from the dust of a sinful life Lift up my manhood’s crown.

The faded face of my young wife With roses yet shall bloom, And joy shall light my mother’s eyes On the margin of the tomb.

I have vowed to-night my only boy, With brow so fair and mild, Shall not be taunted on the streets, And called a drunkard’s child.

Never again shall that young face Whiten with grief and dread, Because I’ve madly staggered home And sold for drink his bread.

This strong right arm unnerved by rum Shall battle with my fate; And peace and comfort crown the home By drink made desolate.

Like a drowning man, tempest-tossed, Clings to a rocky ledge, With trembling hands I’ve learned to grasp The gospel and the pledge.

A captive bounding from my chain, I’ve rent each hateful band, And by the help of grace divine A victor hope to stand.

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1. Silently corrected obvious typographical errors and variations in spelling. 2. Retained archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings as printed. 3. Enclosed italics font in underscores.