A Tear

930 IMPROVEMENT ERA

Eloquence is not the inspiration of a moment nor the training

of a day. It is not the application of rhetorical principles nor the

result of a course in the school of oratory. It is the thrill of a

voice made merry by laughter and softened by grief. It is the

sympathy of a heart that has felt the fight of right with wrong.

It is the outpouring of a human soul that has been upon Sinai

and seen the lightnings flash and heard the thunders roll. It is

the result of a life-time in the desert with the meal of locust

flesh, and the cloak of camel's hair. It is the agony of Gethsemane

crystallized into words. It is character thrilling and throbbing

with a purpose. This was the oratory of the Nazarene peasant.

Countless are the voices that have enriched our air of earth,

but they have grown faint with the centuries. Circumstances

change, and the truths they uttered have lost their deep signifi-

cance for mankind. Languages die, and they are heard no more.

But tonight, above the tumult of ages, safe from the wrecks of

time, above the decay of any language, comes to us the words of

the Master. They have lived because through them shone a divine

character, and behind them was the resistless power of purpose.

229 East Seventh South, Salt Lake City

A Tear

A tear? — so it is — well, let it stay.

But why comes it here at the close of this day?

Beautiful day, whose memory dear

Will stay with me ever.

—

A tear? 'tis a stranger hath wandered amid

This land of joy, unwelcomed, unbid,

But finding its place 'mongst the day's bright hours,

Will leave me never.

Perhaps in the future, when older years

Have seasoned the memory of joys and tears,

The hour that brought me this stranger tear

Will be counted sweetest of all.

Jean H.

LOS ANGELES, CAL.