God’s Garden

Across the fields and meadows green,

     And on the hillside steep,

In God’s great garden of the earth

     Bright flowers begin to creep.

No hand takes up the rake or hoe,

     No hand to train each vine

Except the guiding hand of Him

     Who maketh all things shine.

And God’s great garden of the earth

     Is rich beyond compare;

No spot laid out by hand of man

     Could be one half so fair.

No private park or boulevard,

     Or public garden grand,

Compares with God’s own garden spot,

     The country wonderland.

And God’s great garden of the earth

     Blooms fair for you and me;

It stretches forth from pole to pole,

     It spreads from sea to sea.

I walk into its tangled depths

     And drink its beauties rare,

And thank the Gardner of the earth

     Who plants each flower there.

Dec. 22, 1901