Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/31

Rh There’s the sum of all religion In its mightiness; Winged truths, beyond your doubting, Close about you press. God is greater in the open— Little man is less.

There’s a voice pervades its stillness, Wonderful and clear; Tongues of prophets and of angels, Whispering far and near, Speak an everlasting gospel To the spirit’s ear.

There's a sense you gather, sonny, In the open air; Shift your burden ere it break you: God will take His share. Keep your end up for your own sake; All the rest’s His care.

There's a promise, if you need it, For the time to come; All the veldt is loud and vocal Where the Bible’s dumb. Heaven is paved with gold for parsons, But it's grassed for some.

There’s a spot I know of, sonny, Yonder by the stream; Bushes handy for the fire, Water for the team. By the old home outspan, sonny, Let me lie and dream. Perceval Gibbon.