God made a beatous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden He brought mankind to live, And said: ‘To you, my children, These lovely flowers I give. Prune ye my vines and fig trees, With care my flowerets tend, But keep the pathway open Your home is at the end.’ Then came another master, Who did not love mankind, And planted on the pathway Gold flowers for them to find. And mankind saw the bright flowers, That, glitt’ring in the sun, Quite hid the thorns of av’rice That poison blood and bone; And far off many wandered, And when life’s night came on, They still were seeking gold flowers, Lost, helpless and alone. O, cease to heed the glamour That blinds your foolish eyes, Look upward to the glitter Of stars in God’s clear skies. Their ways are pure and harmless And will not lead astray, Bid aid your erring footsteps To keep the narrow way. And when the sun shines brightly Tend flowers that God has given And keep the pathway open That leads you on to heaven.