The Home Circle.

Southern Cross, Volume 9, Issue 4, 27 April 1901, Page 11

The Home Circle.

ENTERING IN.

The church was dim and silent With the hush before the prayer Only the solemn trembling Of the organ stirred the air. Without, the sweet, still sunshine; Within, the holy calm. Where priest and people waited For the swelling of the psalm.

Slowly the door swung open, And a little baby girl, _ Brown-eyed, with brown hair falling In many a wavy curl, With soft cheeks flushing hotly, Sly glances downward thrown, And small hands clasped before her, Stood in the aisle alone ;

Stood half-abashed, half-frightened, Unknowing where to go. Where like a <vind-rocked flower Her form swayed to and fro ; And the changing colour fluttered In the little troubled face, As from side to side she wavered, With a mute, imploring grace.

It was bat for a moment, What wonder that we smiled By such a strange, sweet picture From holy thoughts beguiled ? Up then rose someone softly, , And many an eye grew dim, As through the tender silence He bore the child with him.

And I, I wondered, losing The sermon and the prayer, If when some time I enter The many mansions fair, And standing abashed and drooping In the portal’s golden glow, Our God will send an angel To show me where to go.

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