Pity for the Fallen by L. D. Santee

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Mar 31, 1914

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 41, No. 12.

Pity for the Fallen

By L. D. Santee

By L. D. SANTEE

SOMETIMES I grow tenderly sober As I look at the faces defiled, And the sorrows that, all the world over, Strew the path of the prodigal child. I think of the pain and the trouble That attend all the pathways of sin, Of the sadness the years but redouble, Of those who have entered therein.

I think of the sorrows unspoken, Of the fallen that long for the light, Of the sad eyes, and hearts that are broken, Of the tears that are kept out of sight; And mercy, with low-bending pinion, Looks out o'er the path of the years, Looks out o'er a fallen dominion, And pities a world full of tears.

I think of the hopes of to-morrow, Of the sadness that fades not away, Of the pleasures that end but in sorrow That will banish the hopes of to-day; And my bosom grows tender with pity As I ponder the woes of the world. Then I think of the jasper-walled city, Where the banner of peace is unfurled,

And I think of the Saviour all-seeing, His nature as loving as when, Long ago in the streets of Judea, He carried the sorrows of men. And O, could I take to the Saviour Those burdened with sorrow and loss, I would tell them their sinful behavior Has caused Him to die on the cross.

The weary of earth, and the lonely, Grow sad with the passing of years. They bear heavy burdens, that only The Master can lighten and cheer. Then hasten Thy coming, O "Strong One"! There are mourners awaiting Thy call. I know that Thou never canst wrong one, For Thy love is extended to all.

Earth's byways are thorny and dreary. Life's burdens — they've carried them long. We point them, when homeless and weary, To a region of joy and of song, To a land that is rich in its gladness, To a country where tears never fall, To a home of unspeakable gladness, Where Jesus is King over all.

Sometime is a brighter to-morrow, When Jesus the Saviour shall call; And the tears that have fallen in sorrow Will not be remembered at all; But the joy that outweighs every other Is the welcome to heaven's bright shore. I long for the time, O my brother, When farewells are spoken no more!

Deem not that the friends that now love you Will ever prove fickle or cold; For heaven is bending above you, With a love that can never be told. And though in my heart is a sadness As I ponder the woes of the world, I know there's unspeakable gladness Where the banners of love are unfurled.