BELIEF
THEY ASK ME WHY I TEACH They ask me why I teach, And I reply, Where could I find more splendid company? There sits a statesman, Strong, unbiased, wise, Another later Webster, Silver-tongued, And there a doctor Whose quick, steady hand Can mend a bone, Or stem the lifeblood’s flow. A builder sits beside him- Upward rise The arches of a church he builds, wherein That minister will speak the word of God, And lead a stumbling soul to touch the Christ. And all about A lesser gathering Of farmer, merchants, teachers, Laborers, men Who work and vote and build And plan and pray Into a great tomorrow And I say, “I may not see the church, Or hear the word, Or eat the food their hands will grow.” And yet – I may. And later I may say, “I knew the lad, And he was strong, Or weak, or kind, or proud, Or bold, or gay. I knew him once, But then he was a boy.” They ask me why I teach, and I reply, “Where could I find more splendid company?” The