Fair is the rocky rill, the blossom'd tree,
The grove with gold that gleams;
Fair is the star of eve, which close we see
To yonder purple gleams.
III.
Fair is the meadow's green, the dale's thick bush,
The hill's bright robe of flowers;
The alder-stream, the pond's surrounding rush,
And lilies' snowy showers.
IV.
Oh! how the host of beings are made one
By Love's enduring band!
The glow-worm, and the fiëry flood of sun,
Spring from one Father's hand.
V.
Thou beckonest, Almighty, if the tree
Lose but a bud that's blown;
Thou beckonest, if in immensity
One sun is sunk and gone!