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Bacheller, Irving, 1859-1950

"Eben Holden, a tale of the north country"


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.


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