Busy Praising God

MINNY M. H. AYERS

They said, "The road is danger-fraught,
Each one has failed who trod."
He said, "No time for danger-thought;
I 'm busy praising God."

They said, "Of snags and pitfalls 'ware!
They 're hidden 'neath the sod."
"But I 'll look up," he said; "no snare
I 'll find while praising God."

"Nay, praise," they said; "yet listen how
Men died because they trod
That rugged hill." "Can't listen now—
I praise the living God!"

He joined the carol of the birds—
They too sang songs of praise;
His joy found insufficient words
Through all his climbing days.

No note of discord marred his song;
His merry, grateful heart
Could open to no thought of wrong,
Could only joy impart.

Nor warning friend, nor warning foe,
Could stop his upward swing;
Too busy he their fears to know—
His heart must ever sing.

And so with song he went his way;
All safe the road he trod.
His journey done—the summit won—
While he had praised his God!

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