ho loveth not the elm tree fair,
A fountain green in summer air,
Whose tremulous spray cools the faint meadow,
And croons to all of a careless care?
It shades the city's paven way,
Where redbreast knows the white moon's ray;
It sentinels the moss-grown homestead,
And waits the men of a coming day.
Its curving lines that fill the sight,
Like mellow meteor's path of light,
Or orbèd spring of walls of azure,
My spirit greet from the infinite.
en plow and sow while moves the sun
Away, away from work begun;
Ofttimes they've heard "Seedtime and harvest
Are sure"—the word of the Sovereign One.
We link our deeds with law supreme,
In field and flood, in wood and stream;
We test Omnipotence by labor,
And reap rewards of no idle dream.
Obedience is the astringent wine
That's quaffed by strenuous souls and fine,
Of cloudy doubt the heavenly solvent,
The Christ's elixir of life divine.