We all green things, we blossoms bright or dim,
Trees, bushes, brushwood, corn and grasses slim,
We lift our many-favored lauds to Him.
Rose,--Lily,--Violet.
I praise Him on my thorn which I adorn,--
And I, amid my world of thistle and thorn,--
And I, within my veil where I am born.
Apple,--Citron,--Pomegranate.
We, Apple-blossom, Citron, Pomegranate,
We, clothed of God without our toil and fret,
We offer fatness where His Throne is set.
Vine,--Cedar,--Palm.
I proffer Him my sweetness, who am sweet,--
I bow my strength in fragrance at His feet,--
I wave myself before His Judgment Seat.
Medicinal Herbs.
I bring refreshment,--
I bring ease and calm,--
I lavish strength and healing,--
I am balm,--
We work His pitiful Will and chant our psalm.