as all the saints an' calls religion flighty,
An' in his narrow world assumes the place o' God Almighty.

But don't expect too much o' God, it wouldn't be quite fair
If fer everything ye wanted ye could only swap a prayer;
I'd pray fer yours an' you fer mine an' Deacon Henry Hospur
He wouldn't hev a thing t' do but lay a-bed an' prosper.

If all things come so easy, Bill, they'd hev but little worth,
An' someone with a gift O' prayer 'ud mebbe own the earth.
It's the toil ye give t' git a thing--the sweat an' blood an' trouble
We reckon by--an' every tear'll make its value double.

There's a money O' the soul, my boy, ye'll find in after years,
Its pennies are the sweat drops an' its dollars are the tears;
An' love is the redeemin' gold that measures what they're worth,
An' ye'll git as much in Heaven as ye've given out on earth.

Fer the record o' yer doin'--I believe the soul is planned
With an automatic register t, tell jest how ye stand,
An' it won't take any cipherin' t' show that fearful day,
If ye've multiplied yer talents well, er thrown 'em all away.

When yer feet are on the summit, an' the wide horizon clears,
An' ye look back on yer pathway windin' thro' the vale o' tears;
When ye see how much ye've trespassed an' how fur ye've gone astray,
Ye'll know the way o' Providence ain't apt t' be your way.

God knows as much as can be known, but I don't think it's true
He knows of all the dangers in the path o' me an' you.
If I shet my eyes an' hurl a stone that kills the King o' Siam,
The chances are that God'll be as much surprised as I am.

If ye pray with faith believin', why, ye'll certnly receive,
But that God does what's impossible is more than I'll believe.
If it grieves Him when a sparrow falls, it's sure as anything,
He'd hev turned the arrow if He could, that broke the sparrow's wing.

Ye can read old Nature's history thet's writ in rocks an' stones,
Ye can see her throbbin' vitals an' her mighty rack o' hones.
But the soul o' her--the livin' God, a little child may know
No lens er rule o' cipherin' can ever hope t' show.

There's a part o' Cod's creation very handy t' yer view,
Al' the truth o' life is in it an' remember, Bill, it's you.
An' after all yer science ye must look up in yer mind,
An' learn its own astronomy the star o' peace t' find.

There's good old Aunt Samanthy Jane thet all her journey long
Has led