Man's Work in God's World

Detroit, Sept. 19, 1862.

Below us the evergreen valleys are lying,
Around us all beauty is given,
Down near to our souls is the Infinite bending,
And above--just above us--is heaven.

 

And this is man's dower--even mortal existence,
Aglow with a beauty divine;
Where far, far above, waits a glory eternal,
Where "lights unapproachable" shine.

 

But alas for the dark in the evergreen valley,
Alas for decay on the hills,
Alas for the gloom on the wonderful mountains,
Alas for the mildew that kills!

 

The earth and the air, to the height of our steeples,
Is full of humanity's woe;
The earth and the air, up as high as man reaches,
Are damp with the tear-drops that flow.

 

Above, far above, looketh down the blue heavens
Alit with mysterious stars;
And almost we ken, as with still hearts we're gazing,
That angels look down through the bars.

 

Below, far below, the hoarse tumult is raging,
As if Mercy from mortals had fled;
Mad Passion drives on with his car o'er a highway--
A highway all paved with the dead.

 

Man puts his proud heel on the heart of his brother,
And smiles at the work he has done;
And the wrongs that cry up to a pitying Heaven,
Might blot from its arches the sun.

 

Around us the evergreen valleys are lying,
Unto us all beauty is given,
Down near to our souls is the Infinite bending,
And above, just above us, is heaven.

 

But the tumult goes on, man defying the Highest,
And trampling on things all divine;
Forgets in his rashness the vengeance that waiteth
To come in Jehovah's good time.

 

Alas for my country, thy evergreen valleys,
Are wet with a tide that is red,
Alas for thy hills for they shudd'ringly cover
War's sacrifice, bloody and dread!

 

Alas for my country; thine ensign of glory
Thy sons have baptized with their blood;
Alas for us now, in the gloom of this darkness,
If above, over all, was not God!