The Work of Afro-American Women
"Words fitly spoken are like apples of gold in pictures of silver."
"A word is a picture of a thought."
Words--idle words --ye may not speak,
Without a care or thought;
For all that pass your lips each day
With good or ill are fraught.
The words of joy, and peace, and love,
You spoke at early morn,
Though time has passed and day is o'er,
Are on their mission borne.
The threat of pain, and fear, and hate,
You shouted in your wrath,
With all its deadly doing, still
Is lying in your path.
Nay, e'en the tiny waves of air
Your secret will not keep,
And all you speak when wide awake
Is whispered, though you sleep.
A word may be a curse, a stab,
And, when the sun is west,
Its onward course it still may run
And rankle in some breast.
But words, small words, and yet how great,
Scarce do we heed their power;
Yet they may fill the heart with joy,
And soften sorrow's hour.
True hearts, by words, are ofttimes knit;
Bound with a mystic tie,
Each golden link a word may loose;
Yea, cause true love itself to die.
Mother, friendship, home and love;
Only words, but Oh, how sweet!
How they cause the pulse to quicken,
Eye or ear, whene'er they greet.
"Peace on earth, good will to men,"
Are the words the angels spake,
And long ages echo them;
Still their tones glad music make.
Each day we live, each day we speak;
And ever an angel's pen
Doth write upon those pages fair
The words of sinful men.
But one small word, but it must be
A power for good or ill,
And when the speaker lithe cold
May work the Master's will.
Then learn their power and use them well,
That memory ne'er may bring
In time of mirth or lonely hour
A sad or bitter sting.
Let only words of truth and love
The golden silence break,
That God may read on record bright,
She spoke for "Jesus' sake."