God has measured the heavens with His ruler,
And weighed the hills and mountains of the earth.
He placed islands in the sea with His perfection,
And created all the stars above the surf.
But man, too poor to make a god of gold or silver,
Will find a blemished tree and carve his own,
That cannot speak, or hear, or move, or wonder,
Or give new life to seeds God's wind has sown.
These hand hewn gods can hear no prayer, or answer,
Can offer men no hope, nor make one law.
But my God who makes the trees their gods were carved from,
Sends heaven’s winds and they are gone as straw.