Guy Rivers: A Tale of GeorgiaSimms, William Gilmore
History
Guy Rivers: A Tale of Georgia
Simms, William Gilmore
Georgia -- History -- 1775-1865 -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction
As he proceeded to his peroration, he grew warmed with the broad and
boundless subject before him, and his declamation became alike bold and
beautiful. All eyes were fixed upon him, and not a whisper from the
still-murmuring woods which girded them in was perceptible to the senses
of that pleased and listening assembly. The services of the morning were
closed by a paraphrase, in part, of the psalm from which his discourse
had been drawn; and as this performance, in its present shape, is not to
be found, we believe, in any of the books devoted to such purposes, it
is but fair to conclude that the old man--not unwilling, in his
profession, to employ every engine for the removal of all stubbornness
from the hearts of those he addressed--sometimes invoked Poetry to smile
upon his devotions, and wing his aspirations for the desired flight. It
was sung by the congregation, in like manner with the former--the
preacher reading two lines at a time, after having first gone through
the perusal aloud of the piece entire. With the recognised privilege of
the romancer, who is supposed to have a wizard control over men, events,
and things alike, we are enabled to preserve the paraphrase here:--
"SHEPHERD'S HYMN"
"Oh, when I rove the desert waste, and 'neath the hot sun pant,
The Lord shall be my shepherd then--he will not let me want--
He'll lead me where the pastures are of soft and shady green,
And where the gentle waters rove the quiet hills between.
"And when the savage shall pursue, and in his grasp I sink,
He will prepare the feast for me, and bring the cooling drink--
And save me harmless from his hands, and strengthen me in toil,
And bless my home and cottage-lands, and crown my head with oil.
"With such a Shepherd to protect--to guide and guard me still,
And bless my heart with every good, and keep from every ill--
Surely I shall not turn aside, and scorn his kindly care,
But keep the path he points me out, and dwell for ever there."
The service had not yet been concluded--the last parting offices of
prayer and benediction had yet to be performed--when a boy, about
fourteen years of age, rushed precipitately into the assembly. His
clothes were torn and bloody, and he was smeared with dirt from head to
foot. He spoke, but his words were half intelligible only, and
comprehended by but one or two of the persons around him. Munro
immediately rose and carried him out. He was followed by Rivers, who had
been sitting beside him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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