Sketches of Southern Life
Out in the cold mid the dreary night,
Under the eaves of homes so bright:
Snowflakes falling o’er mother’s grave
Will no one rescue, no one save?
A child left out in the dark and cold,
A lamb not sheltered in any fold,
Hearing the wolves of hunger bark,
Out in the cold! and out in the dark
Missing to-night the charming bliss,
That lies in the mother’s good-night kiss;
And hearing no loving father’s prayer,
For blessings his children all may share.
Creeping away to some wretched den,
To sleep mid the curses of drunken men
And women, not as God has made,
Wrecked and ruined, wronged and betrayed.
Church of the Lord reach out thy arm,
And shield the hapless one from harm;
Where the waves of sin are dashing wild
Rescue and save the drifting child.
Wash from her life guilt’s turbid foam,
In the fair haven of a home;
Tenderly lead the motherless girl
Up to the gates of purest pearl.
The wandering feet which else had strayed,
From thorny paths may yet be stayed;
And a crimson track through the cold dark night
May exchange to a line of loving light.