| 785 A TRIBUTE TO THE CHARACTER OF LUCY SMITH.
Who ever heard, since Martha's ancient day,
Of one who gained such friendship with the Lord
As Lucy Smith attained along her way-
That path of ruin and that fine accord?
A right to speak to God was what she claimed,
And by his angel to be gently led;
Yet this was deemed a blow at churches aimed,
Though it was what the Savior sometimes said.
Talk not to me of Bunker Hill again,
Nor Lincoln's message to the Afric slave,
For we shall turn our eyes from freedom's train
To her whose actions much excelled the brave.
How startling was that life of warlike storm
Whose darkness scarcely showed a silver trace
Upon its waves of fire, a woman's form
Defied the doom that dwelt before her face.
When brethren all were faint, and in a throng
Would please their wives, and fly to comforts dear.
Then Lucy fed them all the way along
And preached the later truths to saint and seer.
When brethren doubted what was best to do,
And even said, "Let preaching be deferred
Till brighter days, and till this fuss is through,"
She spoke still firmer of the later word.
The mobs despoiled her homes and drove her hence,
Until from courts and prisons grim she saw
Beside this legal seeming and pretense
An angel presence, to expose the flaw.
In later scenes the presence of the Lord
Restored her oft from deadly ills, and foes
Till she, alone, could face Missouri's horde
Which Satan thought no Mormons could oppose.
Upon her head the crown of thorns was worn,
At which she murmured not, nor turned away;
The later word found in her heart an urn.'
'Mid panoramic ruins, day by day.
(page 785) |
