ORPHAN BOY. 235
"Oh I 11 wait His time, And try to do His will, if I may hope, After this body dies, to rise again, And live once more with mother."
So he turned
From that low grave, with such a piteous look Of soul subdued, and utter loneliness, As haunted memory, like a troubled dream.
Time sped away, and when again I passed That quiet village, I inquired for him, And one who knew him told me how he prized The blessed Book, which teacheth that the dead Shall rise again, and o er its pages hung Each leisure moment, with a wondering love, Until he learned of Jesus, and laid down All sorrow at his feet.
But then there came A fearful sickness, and in many a cot Were children dead, and he grew ill, and bore His pain without complaint, and meekly died, And went to join the mother that he loved.
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