When my Father owns the ground on which I tread?
The air I breathe,
The winds that blow, the sunshine overhead?
If my Father knows and heeds the sparrow's fall,
Is He not near, will He not hear
His children when they call?
When the clouds appear? By the Father's hand they're given.
He knows that too much sunshine here
Would wean my soul from heaven.
He knows the oak that to the gale
Spreads out its sturdy form,
Is worth a score of puny trees
That never felt a storm.
And so the harder trials I have,
The louder will I sing;
He who fights long and hard enough
Can couquer anything;
And if death interrupts my work
Before success I get;
Please, God, I'll die with harness on
And face toward Heaven set.
Then struggle on, discouraged soul,
'Tis love that deals the blows.
The more it costs to be a man,
The bigger manhood grows;
The more we have to struggle through,
The sweeter joys we'll win,
For God does most for that brave soul
Who does the most for Him.