At Smethstow

I said my prayers today
Where coppered trees bend low
Above the clear brown stream:
This beauty I can know.

I saw my Saviour’s love
In every tender flower:
Caressing every leaf,
Sustaining hour by hour.

The blackbird sang his praise
In notes so pure and clear.
So teach my heart to sing
To him I hold most dear.

And, on the shadowed path
Midst green and growing things,
I worshipped in quiet awe;
My soul, like swans, had wings.