Smith, Effie Waller
|SONGS OF THE MONTHS.|
|IN MEMORY -- OF REV. JESSE BALL, WHO ENTERED THE HEAVENLY LIFE SEPT. 6, 1898.|
When from the shining parapets
Of mighty Heaven above
God sent the reaping angel,
Not in anger, but in love,
He said, "I send thee now to earth,
Go to yon little town,
And there a soul you'll find whose fruit
Is ripe and bending down.
"Go tell him I've no further need
For him to stay below;
His work is done, I need him here,
Go now, right quickly go!"
Yea, straightway from the shining gate,
The reaping angel went,
And came to earth, and there he reaped
That soul for which his Master'd sent.
Dear friend, we miss you, oh, how much
We miss your gentle voice,
Whose words were always soft and sweet,
And made our hearts rejoice.
Poor you were in this world's goods,
No mansion grand you had;
Your food was always scant and poor,
And your body meanly clad.
Tho' old in years, and frail in health,
You had grown while here, dear friend,
Yet as a faithful man of God,
Your duty you did to the end.