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.