LEND A HAND.
71
When you meet a fallen sister
In the crowded city street,
None to give her kindly counsel,
None to guide her wayward feet
In God’s eyes she’s just as precious
As the purest in the land.
Speak no word of scorn or censure,
Try to save her. Lend a hand!
And perhaps, in that dread hour
When all secrets are made known,
When at last both saint and sinner
Stand before the Judgment Throne,
When in answer to the summons,
At the Bar of God you stand,
Waiting for the eternal sentence,
You’ll be glad you lent a hand.
