p. 12 | My Father by Arthur W. Spaulding

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Feb 10, 1916

My Father

By Arthur W. Spaulding

ARTHUR W. SPAULDING

I ONCE lived in a garden, A garden fair as day, And I was pure and happy, And perfect in my way. So that was why God loved me? Oh, nay! and nay! and nay!

And once against the giants I bent my mighty bow, To rid the earth of ravage And lay oppression low. And was’t for this God loved me? Not so! indeed not so!

And once with wondrous learning I battled for the truth; I flayed debasing errors, And slew them without ruth. And so for this God loved me? Nay! not for that, in sooth.

But last—forgot my prowess— I lowly bent my head, While awe and wonder held me, Above a little bed: “Now know I why God loves me, In very truth,” I said.