One Sabbath day, about ten years ago,
My daughter's daughter took me by the hand
And led me where the women used to go:
The place of prayer down by the riverside.
Assembled there I found a little band
Of earnest people listening to Paul.
And at his feet I quickly came to know
A freedom which will evermore abide.
That very day I heard his stern command
That drove the devils from the girl possessed.
And when they prisoned him he still was blest.
He sang and prayed. The Father heard his call.
He ever loves this church at Philippi,
The first he founded west of Hellespont.
His recent letter lifted us on high.
In it he said we are his "joy and crown."
That man of God can never feel in want!
His call to arms is just as clarion
As if he were not soon, perhaps, to die.
His Roman prison never breaks him down.
His trials, chains, and burdens never daunt
That radiant spirit. We must all rejoice,
He writes. I almost hear his earnest voice
Repeating, "I press forward—I press on."
