Over the busy town,
Bearing away the smoke,
To where it settles down
Among the country folk.
Over the garden wall,
Where pretty flowers bloom,
From early spring till fall,
Shedding their sweet perfume.
Over the human race
And ev’ry form of life,
Upon the earth’s broad face,
Living in love or strife.
Over the rich man’s tracks,
In highland and moor,
And whistling thru the cracks,
In homes of starving poor.
Over the happy crowd,
Feasting on pleasures sweet,
Near humble voices loud,
Praying for food to eat.
Over the good and wise,
And Christ-like loving soul;
Striving to win the prize
Of peace, in heaven’s goal.
Over our country grand,
Waving the flag of peace,
Ruled by a Mighty Hand
Whose love will never cease.
Over all things we see,
And ev’ry place we know,
Upon the land or sea,
Is where the winds do blow.