Oh, there's naught else so dreary In household kingdom found As a cold and sullen kettle That does not make a sound. And I think that love is lacking In the hearts in such a spot, Or the kettle would be singing And the water would be hot.

In household kingdom found

That does not make a sound.

In the hearts in such a spot,

And the water would be hot.

 Contrasts

I see the tall church steeples, They reach so far, so far, But the eyes of my heart see the world's great mart, Where the starving people are.

They reach so far, so far,

Where the starving people are.

I hear the church bells ringing Their chimes on the morning air; But my soul's sad ear is hurt to hear The poor man's cry of despair.

Their chimes on the morning air;

The poor man's cry of despair.

Thicker and thicker the churches, Nearer and nearer the sky But alack for their creeds while the poor man's needs Grow deeper as years roll by.

Nearer and nearer the sky

Grow deeper as years roll by.

 Thy Ship

Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored The priceless riches of all climes and lands, Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seas Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport, And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey?

Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealed Lies all the wealth of this vast universe— Yea, lies some part of God's omnipotence The legacy divine of every soul. Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship, And yet behold it drifting here and there— One moment lying motionless in port, Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung,

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