The Thoughtless Brute His Master Knows

“The thought­less brute his mas­ter knows

And loves the hand that gives him food;

But Me

from whom their be­ing flows

Sole au­thor of their to­tal good

The Lord

and friend of all man­kind

My peo­ple have not sense to find.

Duller than beasts the hu­man herd

Though fed with bless­ings from ab­ove

My peo­ple pay Me no re­gard

Nor own My pro­vi­den­tial love

Nor for their kind pre­serv­er care

In whom they live

and move

and are.