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THE SOULS THAT PASS ME BY
AN ORIGINAL POEM READ BY MISS FANNIE KIMZEY, AT AN ENTERTAINMENT GIVEN BY THE LADIES OF THE BAPTIST
CHURCH, TUPELO, MISS., AT THE HOME OF MRS. W. E. PEGUES, FRIDAY EVENING, SEPT. 24, 1913,
For THE BENEFIT OF THE BAPTIST TRI-STATE HOSPITAL, MEMPHIS, TENN.
There are splendid souls that speak to me
As they pass me on their way,
L T p the marvelous height toward the morning
light
That streams over the hill of day;
But I follow them not, though the splendor
gleams
Behind them as they roam.
For I would live in the little house
Where those whom I love calls “Home.”
There are powerful souls that pass me by
And touch me with their power,
As they harness the lightning to move a world
Or distil the breath of a flower;
Or speak with tongues that are touched with
fire
And the power purges souls that are bad
And makes them good, but I have learned
There are homes that are desolate, hearts
that are sad,
And I would do something for someone,
0, I would make somebody glad;
For I know what it is to be lonesome,
And I know what it means to be sad!
There are gifted souls that hold as theirs
A knowledge more than that of schools
A wisdom to work a message great
With a sculptor’s little tools;
So he works all night and the day reveals
The wonderful message of truth!
But I would brace the broken spring
In the laggard step of discouraged youth!
Be it his to speak through the voiceless stone
And his the glory and renown,
But give me the little lever of love
To lift up the head that now hangs down!
There are seraph souls that tune their voice
To the songs the Heavenly Angels sing,
As they listen while the melody
Through the pearly portal rings!
S- jURELY big’hearted, unselfish men and
. women are the happiest people on earth!
SlSis J Jon. W. A. Vereen, the stalwart
Mayor of Moultrie, Ga., belongs to this
class. Being a man of large means and larger
heart, he seems to be looking always for the
most effective way to do the greatest good to
the greatest number.
Listen, ladies and gentlemen, to one of his
latest plans:
Mr. William D- Upshaw,
Editor The Golden Age,
Atlanta, Georgia.
Dear Mr. Upshaw :
I am so deeply impressed with the brain work
you are doing with tongue and pen for the cause
of Christian citizenship and civic, righteousness
VEREEN IS VERY GENEROUS
BIG HEARTED MAYOR OF MOULTRIE SENDS THE GOLDEN AGE TO FOUR HUNDRED HOMES.
THE GOLDEN AGE FOR WEEK OF OCT. 23
0, the Heavenly souls, 0, the Seraph songs,
How they make the sad world ring,
But I would listen all day long,
And I would tell them how sweetly they
sing!
Lest Genius of song discouraged some day,
Fold his voice in a napkin and lay it away,
Because of the words that I did not say.
I
There are saintly souls like a lily white,
Before rude hands had touched it,
With great pure hearts like drifted snow
Before the soil had smutched it!
And I can point them out to you,
But I with glad, swift feet would show
The crimson fountain flowing free
That washed them white as snow.
There are helpful souls that watch and pray
And stand beside us when we mourn,
And tenderly lift the heavy end
Os the burdens to be borne!
There are poet souls that cheer us on
As they ribbon with rainbows the dark
clouds of rain,
But I would pray in the watches dim,
And smooth and soften the pillows of pain!
There are millionaire souls that pile the wheels
With the shining motto, “In God we trust,”
In a bank where thieves break through and
steal
And the shining treasures rust; ;
But I would gather them one by one,
And skilfully practice them how to roll
With a balance grand in the empty hand
Os a hungry, suffering soul!
Because the sun will set some day,
And those who love me will come and say
“You must leave us now, ’tis the close of
the day”
that I want to send your splendid paper, The
Golden Age, to as many as $200.00 will pay for.
1 count it a privilege to put such wholesome
literature into homes that will be blessed by it,
and at your wholesale rate of SI.OO a year to
those who send it as a present. I would prefer
that you send it six months each into four hun
dred homes, hoping they will thus fall in love
with your inspiring paper and become perman
ent subscribers.
Wishing you increasing success in the great
work you are doing through The Golden Age,
and on the platform in building Christian citi
zenship, I am, Very cordially yours,
W- C. VENEER.
Mayor, Moultrie, Ga.
Then “All I can take in my cold dead hands
Is what I have given away!”
<
Then I must go with the splendid souls
And the powerful souls and all
And take my place round His white throne
At the Great Arch Angel’s call;
And maybe He’ll send me off to the left
And maybe off to the right,
But we all shall know why ’tis thus and so
In the Great Redeemer’s sight!
•
For the splendid souls and the powerful souls
And-the gifted souls and I,
Shall hear his voice forgiving sweet ■’?
As he tells us the reason why!
I 1
“For I was an hungered, and ye fed me,
I was thirsty and ye gave we drink; I was a
stranger and ye took me in, naked and ye
clothed me; I was sick and ye visited me, I
was in prison and ye came unto me!”
) , ..._-K..SSSSS I
Then the saintly souls and the helpful souls
and
And the poet souls and I
Shall fall at his feet in a rapture sweet . {
As we further question Him why!
“When saw we Thee hungry and fed Thee,
Lord? or thirst and gave Thee drink? when
saw we Thee a stranger and took Thee in, or
naked and clothed Thee? When saw we Thee
sick and in prison and came unto Thee?”
I
> '
Then we’ll look in the face of the Father’s Son
And hear Him answer us one by one:
Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least
of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto
Me!
FATE.
By Charles W .Hubner.
When from the dark mysterious shore,
Where Life and Death begin,
Fate comes and knocks upon your door,
Open and let her in;
She often comes in strange disguise,
Heeding nor time nor place;
Unfathomable are her eyes,
Stern her sybilic face.
Men call her Nemesis, for she
Heaven’s thunderbolts has hurled
On nations, doomed by God’s decree
To perish from the world;
But with a brave heart welcome her,
Meet her with smiling face,
For she may prove God’s messenger,
The bearer of His grace.
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