Ye who do stumble, halting on your way; Ye whom the world despises as unclean; Know that the death-free soul has none of these: The unbound spirit goes unto its God, Pure, whole, and beauteous as newly born! Oh, all ye mourners, weeping for the dead; Your tears I gather as the grateful rain Which rises from the sea and falls again, To nurse the withering flowers from its touch; No drop is ever lost! They fall again To nurse the blossoms of some other heart! I would not dry one single dew of grief: The sorrow-freighted lashes which bespeak The broken heart and soul are dear to me; I mourn with them, and mourning so I find The grief-bowed soul with weeping oft grows light! But yet ye mourn for them not without hope: Beyond the woes and sorrows of the earth, As stars still shine though clouds obscure the sight, The friends ye mourn as lost immortal live; And ye shall meet and know their souls again, Through death transfigured, through love glorified! Oh, all ye patient waiters for reward, Scorned and despised by those who know not worth, I know your merit and I give you hope; For in my Father's law is justice found. See how the seed-germ, toiling underground, Waits patiently for time to burst its shell; And by and by the golden sunlight warms The dark, cold earth; the germ begins to shoot. And upward trends until two small green leaves Unfold and wave and drink the pure, fresh air. The blossoms come and go with Summer's breath, And Autumn brings the fruit-time in her hand. So ye, who patient watch and wait and hope, Trusting the sun may bring the blossoms out, Shall reap the fruited labor by and by. I am your friend; I wait and hope with you, Rejoice with you when the hard vict'ry's won! And still for you, O prisoners in cells, I hold the dearest gifts of penitence, Forgiveness and charity and hope! I stretch the hands of mercy through the bars; White hands,--like doves they bring the branch of peace! Repent, believe,--and I will expiate Upon this bitter cross all your deep guilt! Oh, take my gift, accept my sacrifice! I ask no other thing but only--trust! Oh, all ye martyrs, bleeding in your chains; Oh, all ye souls that live for others' good; Oh, all ye mourners, all ye guilty ones, And all ye suffering ones, come unto me! Ye are all my brothers, all my sisters, all! And as I love one, so I love you all. Accept my love, accept my sacrifice; Make not my cross more bitter than it is By shrinking from the peace I bring to you!" =St. Johns, Mich., April, 1887.= THE FREETHINKER'S PLEA