Church | Labor | Poetry | Prayer | Service

THE CHURCH
I think that I shall never see
A church that’s all it ought to be.
A church whose members never stray
Beyond the straight and narrow way;
A church that has no empty pews,
Whose pastor never has the blues,
A church whose elders always speak,
And none is proud and all are meek
Such perfect churches there may be,
But none of them are known to me.
But still, we’ll work and pray and plan
To make our own the best we can.