FOR THE BEAUTY OF THE EARTH
Words: Folliot Sandford Pierpoint
For the beauty of the earth,
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth,
Over and around us lies.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For the beauty of each hour,
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon, and stars of light.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and mind's delight,
For the mystic harmony
Linking sense to sound and sight.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For Thy church, that evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering upon every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For the martyrs' crown of light,
For Thy prophets' eagle eye,
For Thy bold confessors' might,
For the lips of infancy.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For Thy virgins' robes of snow,
For Thy maiden-mother mild,
For Thyself, with hearts aglow,
Jesu, Victim undefiled.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
For Thyself, best Gift Divine,
To the world so freely given,
For that great, great love of Thine,
Peace on earth and joy in heaven.
Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.
THE LORD GOD PLANTED A GARDEN
by Dorothy Frances Gurney
The Lord God planted a garden
In the first white days of the world,
And he set there an angel warden
In a garment of light enfurled.
So near to the peace of Heaven,
That the hawk might nest with the wren,
For there in the cool of the even'
God walked with the first of men.
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth--
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
TREES
by Joyce Kilmer
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Said a Robin to a Sparrow: "I would really like to know why these anxious human beings rush about and worry so." Said the Sparrow to the Robin: "Friend, I think that it must be, that they have no Heavenly Father, such as cares for you and me."