XIX.
The brook's joy
Does not cloy.
Too much sun,
Too much rain;
Work is done
Not in vain.
Sun receives
And cloud leaves
Just enough.
Skies are black
And winds rough,
Yet no lack
Of good will;
For 'tis still
Understood
God is good.
XX.
The brook's rest
Is rest indeed;
The brook's quest
Is daily need.
Thoughts of to-morrow
They bring no sorrow;
And so it babbles away,
And does the work of to-day.
XXI.
The brook knows the joy
Down in the heart of a boy,
And the swallow kens the whirl
Up in the head of a girl.
XXII.
How many a psalm is heard
From yon rejoicing bird,
That finds its daily food
And feels that God is good!
That little life's employ
Is toil and song and joy.
Hast music in thy heart,
O toiler day by day,
Along life's rugged way?
Then what thou hast thou art.
XXIII.
True, Good, and Beautiful!
A perfect line
Of love and sainthood full--
And it is thine.