THROUGH TRIBULATION by Alex.

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Dec 24, 1894

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 20, No. 59.

"THROUGH TRIBULATION."

By Alex.

A PEBBLE lay on the mountain side, High up above the rolling tide, A waif from the drifting floods of old, A fragment rough, uncouth to behold, Seeming not to worth or beauty allied.

Some chance this luckless pebble bore Where the drifting storm dashed o'er and o'er, Till, borne in the path of the torrent's sweep, It found a home 'neath the billows deep That forever break on the wild seashore.

Unknown it seemed to nature, save To the ceaseless beat of the troubled wave, But its homely form, the restless flow Of the drifting tides that come and go, Each hour new worth and beauty gave.

Its splendor grew 'neath the magic hand Of the washing waves and the grinding sand, Till by each lift of the pulsing tide It came at last to the water's side, And lay a gem upon the strand.

An eye that precious jewels sought A glimpse of its lustrous beauty caught, And it shone from thence the brightest gem That graced the royal diadem, With wondrous skill and fancy wrought.

There are souls, perchance of humble birth, Unknown to fame, disowned by earth, By fortune left in the wild storm path Of cruel hate and godless wrath, That yet may shine with matchless worth.

Misfortune's waves but wash and wear The dross that hides their virtue fair. Each sweeping tide of sorrow's flood But lifts them nearer to their God, Where heaven sees their beauty rare.

When the King his diadem shall make, Of priceless gems, those shall he take, As brightest jewels in his crown, Who came through trials to the throne, Who suffered much for his dear sake. —Alex.