Is it nothing for us to idly sleep While the cohorts of death their vigils keep? To gather the young and thoughtless in And grind in our midst a grist of sin? It is something, yes, all, for us to stand Clasping by faith our Saviour’s hand; To learn to labor, live and fight On the side of God and changeless light. WANDERER’S RETURN. My home is so glad, my heart is so light, My wandering boy has returned to-night. He is blighted and bruised, I know, by sin, But I am so glad to welcome him in. The child of my tenderest love and care Has broken away from the tempter’s snare; To-night my heart is o’erflowing with joy, I have found again my wandering boy. My heart has been wrung with a thousand fears, Mine eyes been drenched with the bitterest tears; Like shadows that fade are my past alarms, My boy is enclasped in his mother’s arms. The streets were not safe for my darling child; Where sin with its evil attractions smiled. But his wandering feet have ceased to roam, And to-night my wayward boy is at home— At home with the mother that loves him best, With the hearts that have ached with sad unrest, With the hearts that are thrilling with untold joy Because we have found our wandering boy. In that wretched man so haggard and wild I only behold my returning child, And the blissful tears from my eyes that start Are the overflow of a happy heart. I have trodden the streets in lonely grief, I have sought in prayer for my sole relief; But the depths of my heart to-night are stirred, I know that the mother’s prayer has been heard. If the mother-love be so strong and great For her child, sin-weary and desolate, Oh what must the love of the Father be For souls who have wandered like you and me! “FISHERS OF MEN.” I had a dream, a varied dream: Before my ravished sight The city of my Lord arose, With all its love and light. The music of a myriad harps Flowed out with sweet accord; And saints were casting down their crowns In homage to our Lord. My heart leaped up with untold joy; Life’s toil and pain were o’er; My weary feet at last had found The bright and restful shore. Just as I reached the gates of light, Ready to enter in, From earth arose a fearful cry Of sorrow and of sin.