So Many Things

So many things I do not know of earth's philosophy;
But this I know - God sent His Son to live a life for me.
It matters not that earth's wise men o'er words and creeds have striven,
I see that Jesus marked the Way so clear from earth to heaven.
'Tis not the things I ought to know, or truths I ought to see,
But what I ought to be and do, which matters most to me.

So many things I do now know, for "Jacob's well" is deep
But this I know that Jesus died, the Shepherd for the sheep,
And if I follow as He leads, and thus requite His love,
I'll prosper in the pastures green, and dwell with Him above.
And when the gilt of earth shall fade with every transient joy,
I'll have my treasure where no thief nor rust can e'er destroy.

So many things I do not know about the stars above;
But this I know - God put them there, and at His will, they move.
The last of Adam's race will die, the gates of time be past,
Before men tell their number, or measure space so vast;
And "what is man" that such a God should of him mindful be?
And such as we should dwell with Him throughout eternity?

So many things I have not learned about this world below;
But I can trace the work of God in every place I go
I've seen Him in the tropics, and in frozen northern land,
In valley, plain, and mountain height, by lake and ocean's strand.
The wise man said, "Of making many books there is no end,"
But I love the Book of Nature more than all that men have penned.

I cannot find identical two pebbles in the brook!
Nor yet two grains of wheat as with the microscope I look!
I cannot find two quite the same among the forest trees;
Nor yet the leaves which shiver in the gentle noonday breeze!
How can each sheep in hundreds its own lamb's bleating tell?
And when it finds it by its bleat, confirms it by its smell.

The wild bird calling to its mate its answering note discerns;
The waiting wife, her spouse's step as homeward he returns.
The features are dissimilar in households of one name,
And though it scarce seems possible, no voices are the same;
Nor yet exactly like the script wherewith our names are signed,
Woe to the criminal who leaves his finger prints behind.

I do not know, and no man knows, when Christ shall come again;
'Tis not revealed to angels, much less to sons of men.
Eleven sad disciples heard upon the mountain's brow,
"This self-same Jesus comes again, just as you see Him now."
And I know He'll seek one people, and only one that day
Those doing what He told them before He went away.

I love the Book of Nature and all its precious lore;
I read God's Book - The Bible - and I love it more and more.
I glory not in what I know, nor ought that I have done;
I feel my education here has scarcely yet begun;
But in one thing, I do rejoice midst earthly sin and strife
That ever God wrote down my name within the Book of Life.

Author: W. Hughes