{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_12615/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_12615","id":"gutenberg_12615","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/12615","summary":null,"tags":["Bible. Psalms XXIII -- Criticism, interpretation, etc.","Category: Religion/Spirituality"],"text":"The Song of our Syrian Guest\n\nby\n\nWilliam Allen Knight\n\nIllustrations and Decorative Designs by Charles Copeland\n\n1904\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n  Psalm XXIII\n\n  The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.\n  He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:\n    he leadeth me beside the still waters.\n  He restoreth my soul:\n    he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness\n    for his name's sake.\n  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,\n  I will fear no evil: for thou art with me;\n    thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.\n  Thou preparest a table before me in the presence\n    of mine enemies;\n    thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.\n  Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me\n    all the days of my life: and I will dwell\n    in the house of the Lord for ever.\n\n\n\n\nTo the hand that held the tea-ball\nand the faces of two little maids\n\n\n\n\nSalutation\n\nThree months have gone by since this little child of my heart went\nout into the world, a strayling in the scanty dress of a booklet.\nIn that time many thousands have looked kindly on the little\nwanderer and welcomed it into their homes.  Letters from everywhere\nhave come in, saying in effect: \"It came to my door yesterday, and\nits voice has been sweet to me, and I am glad to have it stay with\nme.\"  For all this I am most thankful.  But it is hard to realize\nthat the small circle of those who loved this story a few months\nago has grown now to a multitude.\n\nSurely none of us ought to be surprised that our story has itself\ngrown under all this kindness, after the manner of children.\nIndeed, as we are sending it forth newly clothed, I find that it is\nlarger by half than when I last prepared it for journeying.\n\nI am set to wondering whether it will not grow quite away from me\nand have a life of its own.  Healthy children do that very thing\nusually, and wise parents are willing to have it so.\n\nBut I cannot cease to remember that this story is out of my own\nlife.  It lay in my heart unborn for long.  It came forth in a time\nof shock and pain.  There is One who knows why its face is unmarred\nand bright with the gladness of trust.  I think God has let it\nspeak to so many hearts for this reason.\n\nGo then, little story; be bearer of thy message of cheer and glad\nrestfulness.  I cannot follow thee into lives that need to hear thy\nvoice; but speak thou to them, and I shall be content.\n\nYet I know, friends of mine, that as you look up somewhere in the\nworld from these pages, you will want to ask me a question.\n\nIt has been asked and answered many times already.  Because I know\nsome of you are in sick-rooms, some are lonely and some companioned\nby grief, some are poor and some for the time are misunderstood,\nsome are discouraged and some feel themselves little loved, some\nare young and cannot find their way, and some are old and\nwayworn,--because I know all of you have need of the Shepherd's\nwatch, I want to answer your question.  Yes, we did indeed have\nsuch a guest, a man whose home was among the Syrian shepherds, a\nman who well knew the life which rightly interprets the Shepherd\nPsalm.\n\nI give my word that this story's message about the Psalm's meaning\nis straight from David's land.  We had such a guest and he told us\nthese things out of the life of his people, as we sat together one\nnight over fragrant cups of tea.\n\nW. A. K.\n\nBoston, January, 1904.\n\n\n\n\nCan there be anything more poetic than this life of the Syrian\nshepherd?  It ought to be religious, too.  Far, far away, out on\nthe lone mountain, with the everlasting hills around, and heaven\nabove, pure, blue, and high, and still.  There go and worship in\nsolemn silence and soul-subduing solitude, worship the Most High\nGod in his temple not made with hands.\n\nAnd now the lights are out in the village, the shepherds are asleep\nby the side of their flocks, the tinkling bell from the fold falls\nfaintly on the still night air, and the watch-dog bays drowsily\nfrom his kennel at the gate.  Good night, fair world; 'tis time to\nseek repose.  Let us first read and meditate upon that delightful\nchapter, the tenth of St. John, where our blessed Saviour\nappropriates all these characters of a good shepherd to himself.\n\n\"The Land and the Book.\"\n\n\n\n\n\"Faduel Moghabghab,\" said our guest, laughing as he leaned over the\ntea-table toward two little maids, vainly trying to beguile their\nwilling and sweetly puckered lips into pronouncing his name.\n\"Faduel Moghabghab,\" he repeated in syllables, pointing to the card\nhe had passed to them.  \"Accent the u and drop those g's which your\nlittle throats cannot manage,\" he went on kindly, while the\nmerriment sparkled in his dark eyes, and his milk-white teeth, seen\nthrough his black moustache as he laughed, added beauty to his\ndelicate and vivacious face.\n\nHe was a man of winsome mind, this Syrian guest of ours, and the\nspirituality of his culture was as marked as the refinement of his\nmanners.  We shall long remember him for the tales told that\nevening of his home in Ainzehalta on the slope of the Syrian\nmountains, but longest of all for what he said out of the memories\nof his youth about a shepherd song.\n\n\"It was out of the shepherd life of my country,\" he remarked, \"that\nthere came long ago that sweetest religious song ever written--the\nTwenty-third Psalm.\"\n\nAfter the ripple of his merriment with the children had passed he\nturned to me with a face now serious and pensive, and said: \"Ah, so\nmany things familiar to us are strange to you of America.\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered, \"and no doubt because of this we often make\nmistakes which are more serious than mispronunciation of your\nmodern names.\"\n\nHe smiled pleasantly, then with earnestness said: \"So many things\nin the life of my people, the same now as in the days of old, have\nbeen woven into the words of the Bible and into the conceptions of\nreligious ideas as expressed there; you of the Western world, not\nknowing these things as they are, often misunderstand what is\nwritten, or at least fail to get a correct impression from it.\"\n\n\"Tell us about some of these,\" I ventured, with a parental glance\nat two listening little faces.\n\nAfter mentioning several instances, he went on: \"And there is the\nshepherd psalm: I find that it is taken among you as having two\nparts, the first under the figure of shepherd life, the second\nturning to the figure of a banquet with the host and the guest.\"\n\n\"Oh, we have talked about that,\" said my lady of the teacups as she\ndangled the tea-ball with a connoisseur's fondness, \"and we have\neven said that we wished the wonderful little psalm could have been\nfinished in the one figure of shepherd life.\"\n\n\"It seems to us,\" I added, wishing to give suitable support to my\nlady's rather brave declaration of our sense of a literary flaw in\nthe matchless psalm, \"it seems to us to lose the sweet, simple\nmelody and to close with strange, heavy chords when it changes to a\nscene of banquet hospitality.  Do you mean that it actually keeps\nthe shepherd figure to the end?\"\n\n\"Certainly, good friends.\"\n\nWith keen personal interest I asked him to tell us how we might see\nit as a shepherd psalm throughout.  So we listened and he talked,\nover the cooling teacups.\n\n\"It is all, all a simple shepherd psalm,\" he began.  \"See how it\nruns through the round of shepherd life from first word to last.\"\n\n\"With softly modulated voice that had the rhythm of music and the\nhush of veneration in it, he quoted: \"'_The Lord is my shepherd; I\nshall not want_.'\"\n\n\"There is the opening strain of its music; in that chord is sounded\nthe keynote which is never lost till the plaintive melody dies away\nat the song's end.  All that follows is that thought put in varying\nlight.\"\n\nI wish it were possible to reproduce here the light in his face and\nthe interchange of tones in his mellow voice as he went on.  He\ntalked of how the varied needs of the sheep and the many-sided care\nof the shepherd are pictured with masterly touch in the short\nsentences of the psalm.\n\n\"Each is distinct and adds something too precious to be merged and\nlost,\" he said.\n\n\"'_He maketh me to lie down in green pastures_,'--nourishment,\nrest.  '_He leadeth me beside the still waters_,'--the scene\nchanges and so does the meaning.  You think here of quietly flowing\nstreams; so you get one more picture of rest; but you miss one of\nthe finest scenes in shepherd life and one of the rarest blessings\nof the soul that is led of God.  All through the day's roaming the\nshepherd keeps one thing in mind.  He must lead his flock to a\ndrinking-place.  The refreshment of good water makes the coveted\nhour of all the day; the spot where it is found amid the rough,\nwaterless hills and plains is the crowning token of the shepherd's\nunfailing thoughtfulness.  When at last the sheep are led 'beside\nthe still waters,' how good it is, after the dust and heat of the\nsheep-walks!\n\n\"Would you get the shepherd meaning here?  Then remember that\nstreams are few in the shepherd country of Bible lands.  The\nshepherds do not rely on them.  Even where streams are found, their\nbeds and banks are usually broken and their flow rough.  Sheep are\ntimid and fear a current of water, as they well may for they are\neasily carried down stream because of their wool.\"\n\n\"Poor things, how do they ever get a good drink?\" exclaimed one of\nthe two little maids, whose heart was always open lovingly  to\nanimals.\n\n\"The shepherd sees to that, doesn't he?\" said the other timidly,\nwith earnest eyes set on our guest.\n\nHis face beamed with winsome relish of these tributes to his\nsuccess.  \"Yes, the sheep would indeed have a hard time finding\nwater to drink, were it not that the shepherd sees to that.\"\n\nThe playfulness faded from his eyes and the shadow of manhood's\nyears was there as he said to me: \"Brother, you and I have learned\nhow much is in that question and answer.  How would we get the\nrefreshment we need in the rough world, if the Shepherd did not see\nto that?  But he does, he does!\"\n\nHis face brightened again as he turned to the four blue eyes across\nthe table.\n\n\"Shall I tell you how the shepherd sees to it that the sheep have a\ngood drink every day?  Listen:\n\n\"There are wells and fountains all through the vast regions where\nthe flocks roam, and in some parts there are cisterns, though the\nsheep like the living water best.  The shepherds know where these\ndrinking-places are all through the treeless country where streams\nare few.  It is a fine sight to see the shepherds bring their\nflocks '_beside the still waters_' at some well or fountain, while\nthe wide, silent country over which they and many other sheep have\nwandered, spreads all around them, and the full expanse of the sky\narches over them.\n\n\"The shepherd makes a certain sound; all his sheep lie down and are\nquiet.  Then he fills the drinking-troughs.  The bubbling of the\nfountain, or the current, if it be by a stream, is no longer there\nto trouble the sheep.  They can drink now undisturbed.  This is the\ndelicate meaning of that word 'still.'  As the Hebrew words put it,\n'He leadeth beside the waters of quietness.'\n\n\"Then the waiting sheep hear a whistle or a call.  They never\nmisunderstand; they know their shepherd's voice and never respond\nto the wrong shepherd if several flocks have come up together.  And\nstrangest of all, the sheep come up by groups; the shepherd makes\nthem understand.  So in groups he leads them until they stand\n'_beside the still waters_.'  And, oh, how they drink, with the\nshepherd standing near!\"\n\nAfter a pause, with a far-off look in his eyes, he said, \"It is a\nbeautiful scene, so beautiful that St. John has used it in\npicturing heaven.\"  A smile broke over his face as he quoted: \"'The\nLamb that is in the midst of the throne shall be their shepherd,\nand shall guide them unto fountains of waters of life.'\"\n\nNo one spoke as he sat turning his teacup.  A tear started from his\ndropped eyes.  Presently he seemed to recall himself.\n\n\"But I must tell you one more scene that comes to my memory\nwhenever I read the words, 'he leadeth me beside the still\nwaters_.'  It would make a beautiful picture if some one would\npaint it.\n\n\"Up in the mountainsides of Lebanon, where my kinsmen have long\nbeen shepherds, often there are no regular drinking-places, such as\nthe wells and fountains on the plains.  But as the shepherd leads\nhis sheep over the rough slopes he finds many a spring and sees its\nrivulet noisily down a crevice.  His sheep need water.  They cannot\ndrink from the leaping little stream.  What does he do?  He finds a\nsuitable turn or nook in its course; he walls it up with a little\ndam and so holds the water till it forms a quiet pool.  Then, right\nthere on the open hills, he leads his sheep 'beside the still\nwaters_.'  I know of nothing more fit to picture the Shepherd's\ncare of souls that trust him than that scene up there on the\nmountainside.\"\n\nWhile our thoughts were carried away to these scenes of thirsty\nflocks drinking, I chanced to notice that the tea-ball was again\nquietly at work.  As we sat thinking on that picture up in the\nmountain, a good hand offered our guest a fresh cup.  He received\nit with a low bow, sipped it in quiet, then with a grateful smile\nbegan speaking again:\n\n\"'_He restoreth my soul_.'  You know,\" he said, turning to me,\n\"that soul means the life or one's self in the Hebrew writings.\"\n\nThen addressing us all he went on: \"There are perilous places for\nthe sheep on all sides, and they seem never to learn to avoid them.\nThe shepherd must ever be on the watch.  And there are private\nfields and sometimes gardens and vineyards here and there in the\nshepherd country; if the sheep stray into them and be caught there\nit is forfeited to the owner of the land.  So, 'he restoreth my\nsoul' means, 'The shepherd brings me back and rescues me from fatal\nand forbidden places.'\"\n\n\"'Restores me when wandering,' is the way it is put in one of our\nhymns,\" I interposed.\n\n\"Ah, sir, that is it exactly,\" he answered, \"'restores me when\nwandering!'\n\n\"'_He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's\nsake.'  Often have I roamed through the shepherd country in my\nyouth and seen how hard it is to choose the right path for the\nsheep; one leads to a precipice, another to a place where the sheep\ncannot find the way back; and the shepherd was always going ahead,\n'leading' them in the right paths, proud of his good name as a\nshepherd.\n\n\"Some paths that are right paths still lead through places that\nhave deadly perils.  '_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the\nshadow of death_,' is the way the psalm touches this fact in\nshepherd life.  This way of naming the valley is very true to our\ncountry.  I remember one near my home called 'the valley of\nrobbers,' and another, 'the ravine of the raven.'  You see 'the\nvalley of the shadow of death' is a name drawn from my country's\nold custom.\n\n\"'For thou art with me.'  Ah, how could more be put into few words!\nWith the sheep, it matters not what the surroundings are, nor how\ngreat the perils and hardships; if only the shepherd is with them,\nthey are content.  There is no finer picture of the way of peace\nfor the troubled in all the world.\n\n\"To show how much the presence of the shepherd counts for the\nwelfare of the sheep I can think of nothing better than the strange\nthing I now tell you.  It is quite beyond the usual, daily care on\nwhich the flock depends so fondly.  But I have seen it more than\nonce.\n\n\"Sometimes, in spite of all the care of the shepherd and his dogs,\na wolf will get into the very midst of the flock.  The sheep are\nwild with fright.  They run and leap and make it impossible to get\nat the foe in their midst, who at that very moment may be fastening\nhis teeth in the throat of a helpless member of the flock.  But the\nshepherd is with them.  He knows what to do even at such a time.\nHe leaps to a rock or hillock that he may be seen and heard.   Then\nhe lifts his voice in a long call, something like a wolf's cry:\n'Ooh! ooh!'\n\n\"On hearing this, the sheep remember the shepherd; they heed his\nvoice; and, strange to tell, the poor, timid creatures, which were\nhelpless with terror before, instantly rush with all their strength\ninto a solid mass.  The pressure is irresistible; the wolf is\novercome; frequently he is crushed to death, while the shepherd\nstands there on a rock crying, 'Ooh! ooh!'  '_I will fear no evil:\nfor art with me_.'\"\n\nHe paused, looking questioningly at one and another.\n\n\"Yes,\" I said at last, \"'in all these things we are more than\nconquerors through him that loved us.'\"  He bowed his satisfaction\nin silence.\n\n\"'_Thy rod and thy staff_'--this also is true to life; the double\nexpression covers the whole round of protecting care.  For the\nshepherds carry a crook for guiding the sheep and a weapon suitable\nfor defending them, the rod and the staff; one for aiding them in\nplaces of need along peaceful ways, the other for defense in perils\nof robbers and wild beasts.  This saying describes with the ease of\nmastery how much those words mean, '_Thou art with me_.'\n\n\"And what shall I say of the next words, '_Thy rod and thy staff\nthey comfort me_'?  Ah, madam, you should see the sheep cuddle near\nthe shepherd to understand that word, '_They comfort me_.' The\nshepherd's call 'Ta-a-a-a, ho-o-o,' and the answering patter of\nfeet as the sheep hurry to him, are fit sounds to be chosen out of\nthe noisy world to show what comfort God gives to souls that heed\nhis voice; and those sounds have been heard in my country this day\nas they were the day this shepherd psalm was written!\"\n\nHe sat in silence a moment musing as if the sound were in his ear.\n\nWith quiet animation he lifted his thin hand and continued: \"Now\nhere is where you drop the shepherd figure and put in a banquet and\nso lose the fine climax of completeness in the shepherd's care.\"\n\nIt need not be said that we were eager listeners now, for our guest\nwas all aglow with memories of his far-off homeland and we felt\nthat we were about to see new rays of light flash from this rarest\ngem in the song-treasury of the world.\n\n\"'_Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine\nenemies_.'\"  In the same hushed voice in which he quoted these\nwords he added: \"Ah, to think that the shepherd's highest skill and\nheroism should be lost from view as the psalm begins to sing of it,\nand only an indoor banquet thought of!\"  Again he sat a little time\nin quiet.  Then he said:\n\n\"The word for table here means simply 'something spread out' and so\na prepared meal, however it is set forth.  There is no higher task\nof the shepherd in my country than to go from time to time to study\nplaces and examine the grass and find a good and safe feeding-place\nfor his sheep.  All his skill and often great heroism are called\nfor.  There are many poisonous plants in the grass and the shepherd\nmust find and avoid them.  The sheep will not eat certain poisonous\nthings, but there are some which they will eat, one kind of\npoisonous grass in particular.  A cousin of mine once lost three\nhundred sheep by a mistake in this hard task.\n\n\"Then there are snake holes in some kinds of ground, and, if they\nbe not driven away, the snakes bite the noses of the sheep.  The\nshepherd sometimes burns the fat of hogs along the ground to do\nthis.  Sometimes the shepherd finds ground where moles have worked\ntheir holes just under the surface.  Snakes lie in these holes with\ntheir heads sticking up ready to bite the grazing sheep.  The\nshepherds know how to drive them away as they go along ahead of the\nsheep.\n\n\"And around the feeding-ground which the shepherd thus prepares, in\nholes and caves in the hillsides there are jackals, wolves, hyenas,\nand panthers, too, and the bravery and skill of the shepherd are at\nthe highest point in closing up these dens with stones or slaying\nthe wild beasts with his long-bladed knife.  Of nothing do you hear\nshepherds boasting more proudly than of their achievements in this\npart of their care of flocks.\n\n\"And now,\" he exclaimed with a beaming countenance and suppressed\nfeeling, as if pleading for recognition of the lone shepherd's\nbravest act of devotion to his sheep, \"and now do you not see the\nshepherd figure in that quaint line, '_Thou preparest a table\nbefore me in the presence of mine enemies_'?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" I answered; \"and I see that God's care of a man out in the\nworld is a grander thought than that of seating him at an indoor\nbanquet-table.\"\n\n\"But what about anointing the head with oil and the cup running\nover?  Go on, my friend.\"\n\n\"Oh, there begins the beautiful picture at the end of the day.  The\npsalm has sung of the whole round of the day's wandering, all the\nneeds of the sheep, all the care of the shepherd.  Now the psalm\ncloses with the last scene of the day.  At the door, of the\nsheepfold the shepherd stands and 'the rodding of the sheep' takes\nplace.  The shepherd stands, turning his body to let the sheep\npass; he is the door, as Christ said of himself.  With his rod he\nholds back the sheep while he inspects them one by, one as they\npass into the fold.  He has the horn filled with olive-oil and he\nhas cedar-tar, and he anoints a knee bruised on the rocks or a side\nscratched by thorns.  And here comes one that is not bruised but is\nsimply worn and exhausted; he bathes its face and head with the\nrefreshing olive-oil and he takes the large two-handled cup and\ndips it brimming full from the vessel of water provided for that\npurpose, and he lets the weary sheep drink.\n\n\"There is nothing finer in the psalm than this.  God's care is not\nfor the wounded only, but for the worn and weary also.  '_Thou\nanointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over_.'\n\n\"And then, when the day is done and the sheep are snug within the\nfold, what contentment, what rest under the starry sky!  Then comes\nthe thought of deepest repose and comfort: '_Surely goodness and\nmercy shall follow me all the days of my life_,' as they have\nthrough all the wanderings of the day now ended.\n\n\"The song dies away as the heart that God has watched and tended\nbreathes this grateful vow before the roaming of the day is\nforgotten in sleep: '_I will_--not shall, but will; for it is a\ndecision, a settled purpose, a holy vow--'I will dwell in the house\nof the Lord for ever_.'  And the song ends, and the sheep are at\nrest, safe in the good shepherd's fold.\"\n\nDo you wonder that ever since that night we have called this psalm\nThe Song of Our Syrian Guest?\n\n\n\n\nSidelights\n\n\nShepherd Life in Bible Lands\n\nPROFESSOR GEORGE E. POST\n\nThe American College, Bayrout, Syria\n\n\"The same regions which furnished the vast flocks in ancient times\nare still noted for their sheep.  All the plateaus east of the\nJordan and the mountains of Palestine and Syria are pasture-grounds\nfor innumerable flocks and herds.  They require water but once a\nday, and, where they cannot get it from perennial streams, they\nfind it in the innumerable wells, fountains and cisterns.  The\ndescendants of the same shepherds who tended flocks in Bible days\nstill occupy the great sheepwalks of Palestine.\n\n\"The care of sheep is the subject of frequent allusion in\nScripture.  The shepherd leads (not drives) them to pasture and\nwater (Ps. 23; 77:20; 78:52; 80:1); protects them at the risk of\nhis life (John 10:15).  To keep them from the cold and rain and\nbeasts, he collects them in caves (1 Sam. 24:3) or enclosures built\nof rough stones (Num. 32:16; Judg. 5:16; Zeph. 2:6; John 10:1).\nThe sheep know their shepherd, and heed his voice (John 10:4).  It\nis one of the most interesting spectacles to see a number of flocks\nof thirsty sheep brought by their several shepherds to be watered\nat a fountain.  Each flock, in obedience to the call of its own\nshepherd, lies down, awaiting its turn.  The shepherd of one flock\ncalls his sheep in squads, draws water for them, pours it into the\ntroughs, and, when the squad has done, orders it away by sounds\nwhich the sheep perfectly understand, and calls up another squad.\nWhen the whole of one flock is watered, its shepherd signals to it,\nand the sheep rise and move leisurely away, while another flock\ncomes in a similar manner to the troughs, and so on, until all the\nflocks are watered.  The sheep never make any mistake as to who\nwhistles to them or calls to them.  'They know not the voice of\nstrangers' (John 10:5).  Sometimes they are called by names (John\n10:3).  Syrian sheep are usually white (Ps. 147:16; Isa. 1:18; Dan.\n7:9), but some are brown (Gen. 30:32-42; Revised Version 'black').\nNo animal mentioned in Scripture compares in symbolical interest\nand importance with the sheep.   It is alluded to about five\nhundred times.\"\n\n\n\n\nThe Singing Pilgrim\n\nA CHARACTERIZATION OF THE TWENTY-THIRD PSALM\n\nHENRY WARD BEECHER\n\n\"The Twenty-third Psalm is the nightingale of the psalms.  It is\nsmall, of a homely feather, singing shyly out of obscurity; but,\noh, it has filled the air of the whole world with melodious joy,\ngreater than the heart can conceive!  Blessed be the day on which\nthat psalm was born!\n\n\"What would you say of a pilgrim commissioned of God to travel up\nand down the earth singing a strange melody, which, when once\nheard, caused him to forget whatever sorrow he had?  And so the\nsinging angel goes on his way through all lands, singing in the\nlanguage of every nation, driving away trouble by the pulses of the\nair which his tongue moves with divine power.  Behold just such an\none!  This pilgrim God has sent to speak in every language on the\nglobe.  It has charmed more griefs to rest than all the philosophy\nof the world.  It has remanded to their dungeon more felon\nthoughts, more black doubts, more thieving sorrows, than there are\nsands on the seashore.  It has comforted the noble host of the\npoor.  It has sung courage to the army of the disappointed.  It has\npoured balm and consolation into the heart of the sick, of captives\nin dungeons, of widows in their pinching griefs, of orphans in\ntheir loneliness.  Dying soldiers have died easier as it was read\nto them; ghastly hospitals have been illuminated; it has visited\nthe prisoner and broken his chains, and, like Peter's angel, led\nhim forth in imagination, and sung him back to his home again.  It\nhas made the dying Christian slave freer than his master, and\nconsoled those whom, dying, he left behind, mourning not so much\nthat he was gone as because they were left behind and could not go\ntoo.\n\n\"Nor is its work done.  It will go on singing to your children and\nmy children, and to their children, through all the generations of\ntime; nor will it fold its wings till the last pilgrim is safe, and\ntime ended; and then it shall fly back to the bosom of God, whence\nit issued, and sound on, mingled with all those sounds of celestial\njoy which make heaven musical forever.\"","title":"The Song of our Syrian Guest","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":4867}