So many good people find fault with God,
Tho’ admitting He's doing the best He can,
But still they consider it somewhat odd
That He does n't consult them concerning his plan,
But the sun sinks down and the sun climbs back,
And the world runs round and round its track.
Or they say God does n't precisely steer
This world in the way they think is best,
And if He would listen to them, He'd veer
A hair to the sou’, sou'west by west.
But the world sails on and it never turns back
And the Mariner never makes a tack.
Or the same folk pray “O, if Thou please,
Dear God, be a little more circumspect;
Thou knowest Thy worm who is on his knees
Would not willingly charge thee with neglect,
But O, if indeed Thou knowest all things,
Why fittest Thou not Thy worm with wings?”
So many good people are quite inclined
To favor God with their best advices,
And consider they're something more than kind
In helping Him out of critical crises.
But the world runs on, as it ran before,
And eternally shall run evermore.
So many good people, like you and me,
Are deeply concerned for the sins of others
And conceive it their duty that God should be
Apprised of the lack in erring brothers.
And the myriad sun-stars seed the skies
And look at us out of their calm, clear eyes.