Comfort
Say! You’ve struck a heap of trouble —
Bust in business, lost your wife;
No one cares a cent about you,
You don’t care a cent for life;
Hard luck has of hope bereft you,
Health is failing, wish you’d die —
Why, you’ve still the sunshine left you
And the big, blue sky.
Sky so blue it makes you wonder
If it’s heaven shining through;
Earth so smiling ‘way out yonder,
Sun so bright it dazzles you;
Birds a-singing, flowers a-flinging
All their fragrance on the breeze;
Dancing shadows, green, still meadows —
Don’t you mope, you’ve still got these.
These, and none can take them from you;
These, and none can weigh their worth.
What! you’re tired and broke and beaten? —
Why, you’re rich — you’ve got the earth!
Yes, if you’re a tramp in tatters,
While the blue sky bends above
You’ve got nearly all that matters —
You’ve got God, and God is love.