PREACHER’S VACATION
The old man went to worship
For the day was bright and clear,
Though the road was rough and dusty,
And it was hard to travel there.
But he hungered for the gospel
As he trudged the weary way
On the road so rough and dusty
Neath the summer’s burning ray.
By and by he reached the building,
To his soul a Holy Place,
There he paused and wiped the sweat drops Off /his thin and wrinkled face.
Then he looked around bewildered,
For the old bell did not toll,
And the doors were shut and bolted,
And he did not see a soul/. Then he leaned upon his crutches,
And he said what does it mean,
and he looked this way and that way,
‘Till it seemed almost a dream.
He had trudged the dusty by way,
And he breathed a heavy…
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