I love, and have some cause to love, the earth;
She is my Maker’s creature, therefore good.
She is my mother, for she gave me birth.
She is my tender nurse; she gives me food.
But what’s a creature, Lord, compar’d to thee?
Or what’s my mother or my nurse to me?
I love the air; her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
Her shrill-mouth’d choir sustains me with their flesh,
And with their polyphonian notes delight me.