[Let The Cloth Be White.]

Go set the table, Mary, an' let the cloth be white! The hungry city children are comin' here to-night; The children from the city, with features pinched an' spare, Are comin' here to get a breath of God's untainted air.

They come from out the dungeons where they with want were chained; From places dark an' dismal, by tears of sorrow stained; From where a thousand shadows are murdering all the light: Set well the table, Mary dear, an' let the cloth be white!