Heavenly Recognition

Excerpt from Heavenly Recognition

There is a very Sick child in the abode of David the king. Disease, which stalks up the dark lane of the poor, and puts its smothering hand on lip and nostril of the wan and wasted, also mounts the palace stairs, and bending over the pillow, blows into the face of a young prince the frosts of pain and death. Tears are wine to the King of Terrors. Alas for David the king! He can neither Sleep nor eat, and lies prostrate on his face, weeping and wailing until the palace rings with the outcry of woe.