Teach me with quick-eared spirit to rejoice
In admonitions of thy softest voice!
Whate’er the path these mortal feet may trace,
Breathe through my soul the blessing of Thy grace;
Glad, through a perfect love, a faith sincere,
Drawn from the wisdom that begins with fear;
Glad to expand, and, for a season, free
From finite cares, to rest absorbed in Thee.
Wordsworth.
In every copse and sheltered dell,