Classic Poem

The baby had a drunken father,
And he left the child to die.
Years rolled on, the poor old father

Staggered to the gates on high,
By crime and wrong all lit and embered,

And scored by many a foolish sin;
He heard a voice he well remembered,

u Let my poor old Daddy in.'

He leaned against the portal, wondering;

He stooped to hear the noble song,
' The Lord of Hosts,' go rolling, thund'ring

Thro' the pulsing space along,
And thro' the chorus loud and leading

Beating thro' the splendid din


He heard a child's voice faintly pleading,
' Let my poor old Daddy in.'

He wept and looked with sad eyes, tearful;

He saw the splendid Gabriel stand,
His eye benign, his forehead fearful,

Holding high the warder's brand.
A child girl robed in white completely,

Clasped his knees his eye to win,
And pleaded fondly, softly, sweetly,

' Let my poor old Daddy in.'

Then thro' the portal throng came walking

One with wounds on either hand,
He stopped a moment, smiling, talking,

Wrote a sentence in the sand;
Then kindly looked upon the squalor

Thick upon the man of sin:
He had a school behold a scholar,

' Gabriel, bring her Daddy in! '