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.