FAITH
Being some words of counsel from an old Yankee to his son Bill when the latter is about to enter college.
Faith, Bill? You remember how ye used to wake
an' cry,
An' when I lit a candle how the bugaboos 'u'd fly?
Well, faith is like a father in the dark of every
night—
It tells ye not t' be afraid, an' mebbe strikes a
light.
Now, don't expect too much o' God, it wouldn't
be quite fair
If fer anything 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 abed an'
prosper.
If all things come so easy, Bill, they'd hev but little
worth,
An' some one with a gift o' prayer 'u'd mebbe own
the earth.
It's the toil ye give t' git a thing—the sweat an'
blood an' care—
That makes the kind o' argument that ought to
back yer prayer.
Fer the record o' yer doin'—I believe the soul is
planned
With some self-workin' 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 stun 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 certainly
receive,
But that God 'll break His own good law is more 'n
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 that's writ in rocks
an' stones,
Ye can see her throbbin' vitals an' her mighty rack
o' bones,
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' God's creation very handy t' yer
view,
All 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 that all her
journey long
Has led her heart to labor with a reveille of song.
Her folks hev robbed an' left her, but her faith in
goodness grows;
She hasn't any larnin', but I tell ye, Bill, she knows!
She's hed her share o' troubles; I remember well
the day
We took her t' the poor-house—she was singin' all
the way.
Ye needn't be afraid t' come where stormy Jordan
flows,
If all the l'arnin' ye can git has taught ye half she
knows.
There's a many big departments in this ancient
school o' God,
An' ye keep right on a l'arnin' till ye lay beneath
the sod,
All the books an' apperaytus, all the wisdom o'
the seers
Will be jest a preparation fer the study o' the years.