God has a house three streets away,
And every Sunday, rain or shine,
My nurse goes there her prayers to say.
She’s told me of the candles fine
That, burning all night long, they keep
Because God never goes to sleep.
Then there’s a steeple full of bells,
All through the dark the time it tells.
I like to hear it in the night
And think about those candles bright.
I wonder if God stays awake
For kindness, like the Furnace-man
Who comes before it’s day, to make
Our house as pleasant as he can…
I like to watch the sky grow blue,
And think perhaps, the whole world through,
No one’s awake but just us three—
God, and the Furnace-man, and me.