The Host

 I never could imagine God:
I don't suppose I ever will.

Beside His altar fire I nod
With senile drowsiness but still
In old of age as sight grows dim
 I have a sense of Him.


For when I count my sum of days
I find so many sweet and good,
My mind is full of peace and praise,
My heart aglow with gratitude.

For my long living in the sun
 I want to thank someone.


Someone who has been kind to me;
Some power within, if not on high,
Who shaped my gentle destiny,
And led me pleasant pastures by:
Who taught me, whether gay or grave,
 To love the life He gave.


A Host of charity and cheer,
Within a Tavern warm and bright;
Who smiles and bids me have no fear
As forth I fare into the night:
From whom I beg no Heav'n, but bless
 For earthly happiness.

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