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Title: Faith
Author: Abner Cosens [
More Titles by Cosens]
November, 1917
The soldier, when the war began,
Presumed the cause was right,
But didn't ask the campaign's plan;
His duty was to fight.
The child, with all things yet to prove,
Still thinks the world is fair,
While trusting in a mother's love,
And in a father's care.
The patient 'neath the surgeon's knife
Unconscious is, and still,
The only hope to save his life
Is in the doctor's skill.
The farmer sows in faith his seed,
And trusts the sun and rain,
Meanwhile he fights the choking weed
That grows among the grain.
The planets in their orbits roll,
The seasons come and go,
The angry seas own God's control,
His care the sparrows know.
But we, by pride made over bold,
Face Providence unawed,
And like the patriarch of old,
Presume to question God.
Ten thousand prayers in discord rise
From church and cloister dim,
When will we cease our feeble cries,
And trust the world to Him?
'Tis His the broken heart to bind,
To heal the serpent's bite,
The judge is He of all mankind,
And shall He not do right?
[The end]
Abner Cosens's poem: Faith
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