In the lust of my strength br I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me: br I might as well have cursed the stars. br In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute br And I cursed God for my suffering; br Still He paid no attention to me; br He left me alone, as He had always done. br I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple. br Then, as I grew weaker, a terror came over me: br Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him. br One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet br And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God, br So I tried to make friends with Him; br But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet.