The Cripple Boy

There was a lonely cottage once upon a mountain side
And higher still above it rose the summits in their pride.
A village in the valley lay but that was far below
Whence all accept the wild goats came with weary step and slow.
A Widow owned that lowly hut she had one only joy
Alas her care and sorrow too, he was A Cripple Boy.
He could not climb the mountain path he could not run nor play
Nor earn his daily bread for which his Mother toiled all day.
Oh Mother, he would sometimes say why has God made me so
What use am I, what work is mine and then the tears would flow.        
Nay nay my child be patient still be sure thy words are true
God has a plan for every man and he has one for you.
The sounds of War were swelling then around that fair free land
But her sons had sworn that on her soil no foeman’s foot should tread.
And on each height a sentry stood With keen unerring eye
The watch fires blazed to kindle should enemy surprise.
The cripple slept at midnight hour then woke he knew not why
A secret impulse called him forth beneath the starry sky.
Then led him up he knew not where until at last he stood
Upon the height beside the pile the final pile of wood.

One moment and the flames burst forth they saw it, far and near
They saw it too those baffled foes and knew there chance was o’er.
One shot they fired and down they went back to their camp once more
But where was he, the feeble child so weak and yet so brave.
Alas, that shot had stretched him low and on the grass he lay
While he faintly whispered as his lifeblood ebbed away.
God has a plan for every man and he had one for me.

Written out by me on the 29-09-1955. And was recited by me in the years 1897 and 1898. I recited this twice at the GT. Barugh Yorkshire, Wesleyan Methodist Sunday School Anniversary which was held on the second Sunday in June of each year.  
Christopher Pearson Wood

 Copyright  Robin Wood

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