Preachers

Peculiar men, we know, abound in every walk and station Each has its brave, it's proud, and each it's groveling creature.

But scarcely is there one so apt at spreading consternation, As the wild, explosive, covetous, and social climbing preacher.

So little he is, he really thinks that he has reached the top If he can just get into print with any new-born notion, It's birth pangs proving only that he is a selfish flop who's blithely unconcerned, though fires of hell are set in motion.

Because some preachers have become a sort of begging Friar, reproach is brought upon the church, it's holy Head and name; The One who said `I'll ne'er forsake thee," thus is made a liar,

And such a man could scarce do less than hang his head in shame. For if this one had godly lived in all his former life, in times of stress, true christian friends would urgent needs supply nor do I pass that preacher by who steals his neighbor's wife;

He's neither blind, nor dumb, but knows he daily lives a lie. The man who's small, weak, puny, and meaner than the rest is he who thinks of his own rights, and lets the Church divide because he finds it hard to leave his nicely feathered nest, And thus is left a gaping wound in Christ's own spiritual side.

This man is often heard to whine about the preachers share of hardships, trials, and such like—but hasn't every one? Most all the time the host provides his very best of fare, and, after all, the preacher's life is balanced well with work and fund.

To be projected on life's screen a man will never yearn. Because of poise he can accept with smiling charm and grace, degrees of honor, names of merit, his conscious efforts earn. Because of strength, he can if needs, walk with a slower pace; Because his nature is not small, or easy to disturb, Endurance keeps him on the job, no matter what is said, As when the Fist attacks the Dane, he seems to not have heard, Such greatness is a jeweled crown that fits no other head. Willard Hedge. (Mrs. John W. Hedge)