bloom;
  And every bird that sang beside the nest
  Told of the love that broods o’er every living thing. 
      He watched the shepherd bring
  His flock at sundown to the welcome fold,
    The fisherman at daybreak fling
  His net across the waters gray and cold,
  And all day long the patient reaper swing
  His curving sickle through the harvest-gold. 
  So through the world the foot-path way he trod,
  Breathing the air of heaven in every breath;
  And in the evening sacrifice of death
  Beneath the open sky he gave his soul to God. 
  Him will I trust, and for my Master take;
  Him will I follow; and for his dear sake,
          God of the open air,
        To thee I make my prayer.

VI

  From the prison of anxious thought that greed has builded,
  From the fetters that envy has wrought and pride has gilded,
  From the noise of the crowded ways and the fierce confusion,
  From the folly that wastes its days in a world of illusion,
  (Ah, but the life is lost that frets and languishes there!)
  I would escape and be free in the joy of the open air.

  By the breadth of the blue that shines in silence o’er me,
  By the length of the mountain-lines that stretch before me,
  By the height of the cloud that sails, with rest in motion,
  Over the plains and the vales to the measureless ocean,
  (Oh, how the sight of the greater things enlarges the eyes!)
  Draw me away from myself to the peace of the hills and skies.

  While the tremulous leafy haze on the woodland is spreading,
  And the bloom on the meadow betrays where May has been treading;
  While the birds on the branches above, and the brooks flowing under,
  Are singing together of love in a world full of wonder,
  (Lo, in the magic of Springtime, dreams are changed into truth!)
  Quicken my heart, and restore the beautiful hopes of youth.

  By the faith that the wild-flowers show when they bloom unbidden,
  By the calm of the river’s flow to a goal that is hidden,
  By the strength of the tree that clings to its deep foundation,
  By the courage of birds’ light wings on the long migration,
  (Wonderful spirit of trust that abides in Nature’s breast!)
  Teach me how to confide, and live my life, and rest.

For the comforting warmth of the sun that my body embraces,
For the cool of the waters that run through the shadowy places,
For the balm of the breezes that brush my face with their fingers,
For the vesper-hymn of the thrush when the twilight lingers,
For the long breath, the deep breath, the breath of a heart without
care,—­
I will give thanks and adore thee, God of the open air!

VII