Robert W. Service
Say! You've struck a heap of trouble — Bust in business, lost your wife; No one cares a cent about you, You don't care a cent for life; Hard luck has of hope bereft you, Health is failing, wish you'd die — Why, you've still the sunshine left you And the big, blue sky. Sky so blue it makes you wonder If it's heaven shining through; Earth so smiling 'way out yonder, Sun so bright it dazzles you; Birds a-singing, flowers a-flinging All their fragrance on the breeze; Dancing shadows, green, still meadows — Don't you mope, you've still got these. These, and none can take them from you; These, and none can weigh their worth. What! you're tired and broke and beaten? — Why, you're rich — you've got the earth! Yes, if you're a tramp in tatters, While the blue sky bends above You've got nearly all that matters — You've got God, and God is love.