I DO not think the Providence unkind That gives its bad things to this life of ours; They are the thorns whereby we, travelers blind, Feel out our flowers. I think hate shows the quality of love, -- That wrong attests that somewhere there is right: Do not the darkest shadows serve to prove The power of light? On tyrannous ways the feet of Freedom press; The green bough broken off, lets sunshine in; And where sin is, aboundeth righteousness, Much more than sin. Man cannot be all selfish; separate good Is nowhere found beneath the shining sun: All adverse interests, truly understood, Resolve to one! I do believe all worship doth ascend, -- Whether from temple floors by heathen trod, Or from the shrines where Christian praises blend, -- To the true God, Blessed forever: that His love prepares The raven's food; the sparrow's fall doth see; And, simple, sinful as I am, He cares Even for me. |