From the Rock Island Argus, February 11, 1915. By The Bentztown Bard.
Lots of complainin’ wherever you go
Of people not gettin’ the kind of a show
They think life owes ‘em, while others cry
The best things always keep passin’ ‘em by,
And this isn’t right, and that’s all wrong,
But down in my heart there’s an old, sweet song
That brings me the lesson, mid all it sings,
That the Lord in his heaven’s still runnin’ things.
I wouldn’t go crazy with grief and care
Even if things went a little square—
As all things will in their time and place—
For I’ve always found there’s the same old grace
And beauty and comfort in loss and pain,
As there is in moments of triumph and gain—
In the feelin’ and trust and believin’ that rings
Through the thought that the Lord is still runnin’ things.
I pity the sorrowful, God knows that,
And to those who suffer I doff my hat;
And I try to be tender to those whose cross
Is heavy to bear in this world of loss;
But I can’t believe, as I list to the song
Of the sweet old faith, that a thing goes wrong
Without some blessin’ that ere long brings
The thought that the Lord is still runnin’ things.
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