The Gospel Tent

M.E.R.

The Tent was pitched on the village green,

Its doors flung open wide;

A kindly voice invited all

To come and step inside.

The choruses and singing sweet

Were heard by all around,

And many came to listen

Drawn by the cheerful sound.

With those who came, a little girl

Was seen there every night;

She loved to learn the choruses,

They gave her great delight.

One day the mother kindly said:

“If you go out to-night

You can take your brother with you—

The singing there is bright.”

“Yes, mother,” was the child’s reply,

“But will you not come too?

You’d like to hear the preacher’s words,

And it isn’t far to go.

That night saw mother, daughter, son,

In good time seated there—

Well up in front their seats were given,

That they might see and hear.

From the preacher’s lips the sound went forth,

A message sent from God;

And many souls were stirred that night

To walk the heavenward road.

The widow, listening, felt her heart

Perturbed, and angry too;

She wished she had not seen the tent,

And schemed how she could go.

But the arrow of conviction

Had pierced her guilty heart;

She felt compelled to listen,

Though each word was like a dart.

God’s plough was turning up the soil

Of a heart cold, hard, and dead;

And as the Word unfolded was,

Light entered, darkness fled.

The seed was sown in soil prepared—

A miracle was wrought;

That evening ere the tent was closed,

Changed was that woman’s thought.

New thoughts, new aim, and new desires

Now filled her grateful breast,

And prayers that all her family

Might find the same sweet rest.

Her prayers are heard, her children all

Are in the narrow road,

Though traveling through a world of sin,

Rejoicing in the Lord.