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 her heart to labour 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 poorhouse - she was singin' all the way;
Ye needn't be afraid t' come where stormy Jordan flows,
If all the larnin' ye can git has taught ye halfshe knows.'
I give this crude example of rustic philosophy, not because it has
my endorsement - God knows I have ever felt it far beyond me -
but because it is useful to those who may care to know the man
who wrote it. I give it the poor fame of these pages with keen
regret that my friend is now long passed the praise or blame of this
world.
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