Chapter XIII: Why Fred Was Punished

“The Lord is slow to anger, and great in power, and will not at
all acquit the wicked.”

Our Fred, the merriest boy ever seen,
Was now in disgrace. We were all so sad.
But saddest of all was his mother, I ween,
The dearest mamma a boy ever had.

She had argued, entreated, commanded in vain.
Poor, foolish Fred still refused to obey.
Poor, foolish Fred! who would sadly complain
To do without mamma one single whole day.

So strong and so loving, so wise and so good,
So ready to help, so patient to bear,—
Could any one do what his dear mamma could?
Or take of her boy such fond watch and care?

She waited and waited, but Fred only grew
More sullen and stubborn; then, with a tear,
She said, oh! so slowly, “It never will do
To leave him unpunished, tho’ never so dear.”

The verdict was given,—at home to remain
That day of all days, the Fourth of July.
And mother, whose lips framed the sentence so stern,
Grieved more than we all, her boy to deny.

Patient to wait, strong and loving to help,
But firm against wrong,—he’ll thank her, someday,—
The mother, who, seeing the gain through the pain,
With punishment barred Sin’s broad, tempting way.

And so our Father in Heaven doth wait,
Lovingly, patiently; once and again
Calling us back from the broad, gilded gate
Which leads down to death, through sorrow and shame.

His love, strong and tender to help and to bless,
Though stern and unyielding, is love no less
When it bars the way with punishment sore,
Than when it waits at the Open Door.

PART THIRD.