I check myself, and say, “That mighty One
Who made to the solar system cannot blunder—
And for the best all things are being done.”
Who sent the stars on their eternal courses
Has fashioned this strange earth by some sure plan.
Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces,
Nor dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man.
You cannot put one little star in motion,
You cannot shape one single forest leaf,
Nor fling a mountain up, nor sink an ocean,
Presumptuous pigmy, large with unbelief.
You cannot bring one dawn of regal splendor,
Nor bid the day to shadowy twilight fall,
Nor send the pale moon fourth with radiance tender—
And dare you doubt the One who has done it all?
“So much is wrong, there is such pain—such sinning.”
Yet look again—behold how much is right!
And He who formed the world from its beginning
Knows how to guide it upward to the light.
Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil
At God’s achievements, but with purpose strong
To cling to good, and turn away from evil.
That is the way to help the world along. —Ella Wheeler Wilcox