“These, as they change, Almighty Father, these
Are but the varied God. The rolling year
Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing spring
Thy beauty walks. Thy tenderness and love
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm;
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles;
And every sense, and every heart is joy.
Then comes Thy glory in the summer-months,
With light and heat refulgent. Then Thy sun
Shoots full perfection through the swelling year: