  I AM grown weary for new scenes But not of human make. But O! for hills and long green fields, A splintered, glittering lake. This day I am an intimate With sky and bird and tree. With budding boughs and turbulent streams And God’s immensity. I am enamored with fresh days Drenched with rain and sun. The tho’t of thine omnipotence O! God has made me dumb. Thy goodness is so wide, a thing Beat, for me slower time. I cannot sing so great a song In one short life like mine. |
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