O Earth, and Sky, and Flowers, and Streams agushing,
God made ye beautiful to make us blest:
O bright-winged Songsters through the blue air rushing;
O murmuring Tree-tops, by the winds carest;
O Waves of Ocean, Ripples of the River,
O Dew and Fragrance, Sunlight, and Starbeam,
O blessed summer-sounds that round me quiver,
Delights impassable that round me teem —
Oh all things beautiful! God made ye so
That the glad hearts of men might overflow!
O Soul within me, whose wings sweep a lyre —
God gave thee song that thou might'st give him praise;
O Heart that glows with the Promethean fire,
O Spirit whose fine chords some influence plays:
O all sweet thoughts and beautiful emotions,
O smiles and tears, and trembling and delight,
Have ye not all part in the soul's devotions,
To help it swell its anthem's happy height?
Spirit of Love, of God, of inspiration,
The poet's glad heart bursts in acclamation!