Mr. President

President I ain't never seen ner heard ye, Mister Wilson, President, But I've read ye, an' I'm follerin', fer I like yer sentiment. An' I don't mean jes' one, but all, an' I back all ye've said, Fer ye write as good American as ever I have read. Yer language runs so deep an' clear, an' rings golden like an' true. It ain't a speakin' politics, it's jest a speakin' you. It breathes kindliness fer human kind, it's strong an' brave an' free; It^s humble, sweet an' noble, an' speaks pure Christianity. It's the language of the Bible, in its lofty statesmanship ; It's the language of heart-service, not the service of the lip. An' fer statin' what the Nation feels, ye ain't excelled by none; Why, ye rank with noble Lincoln, or inspired Washington. An| out here in these Western vales there's thousands lifts their eyes An sends wingin' through the silence a message to the skies, That God will keep the pilot safe, to guide our heav'n-built bark, lhat like he's steered it in the light, so help him in the dark. An when sweet morn, an' light an' peace, suffuse the earth again, Keep yet our pilot safe to serve, we pray Thee, Lord, Amen. Brigham S. Young.