With noiseless steps good goes its way;
The earth shakes under evil’ s tread.
We hear the uproar, and’ tis said,
The world grows wicked every day.
It is not true. With quiet feet,
In silence, Virtue sows her seeds;
While Sin goes shouting out his deeds,
And echoes listen and repeat.
But surely as the old world moves,
And circles round the shining sun,
So surely does God’ s purpose run,
And all the human race improves.
Despite bold evil’ s noise and stir,
Truth’ s golden harvests ripen fast;
The Present far outshines the Past;
Men’ s thoughts are higher than they were.
Who runs may read this truth, I say:
Sin travels in a rumbling car,
While Virtue soars on like a star —
The world grows better every day.