p. 44 | The Home Circle by J. Albert Libby

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jan 21, 1886

The Home Circle.

By J. Albert Libby

OUT OF TUNE.

My organ stood a useless thing, Week after week, to those who sing; All who would seat themselves to play Did soon arise and come away. I said, I'll go and look within— 'Tis outwardly as it hath been; The pedals play an organ breeze, Yet discord rings along the keys.

So carefully I laid aside Piece after piece, and back-board wide, Lifted the key-board, when I found The trouble with my organ's sound, A mouse had lived above the reeds, And built his nest for napping needs; His nibblings fine about were blown, Stopping and spoiling many a tone.

The reeds were drawn, the brush was used, And many a silent tongue was loosed; The parts replaced, and then the keys Rang out the old-time harmonies. I thought, "This figure suits me well, A story of ourselves to tell;" Attuned by Heaven, what music flows Harmonious as the Spirit blows.

But when some little mouse of sin Creeps from the outer world within, The prayers, the talks, the songs we sing, To listening ears with discord ring. Ah! then what dusting should there be Of every inharmonious key, Till prayer and praise in sweet accord Flow out as music—to the Lord! —J. Albert Libby, in Crisis.