How many plants, we call them weeds I cannot plainly see the way I do not think of thee, beloved I heard the wavelet kiss the shore I mourn no more my vanished years I sing to my mate I slept and dreamt that life was beauty In every object here 1 see In every season In God's great field of labour In the trials to be suffered In silence mighty things are wrought It waved not through an eastern sky Jesu, bless our slender boat Like to the falling of a star Light be the turf above thee Listen, darling, and tell to me Lord, I have toiled all night. Lord, lead the way Lord, who ordainest for mankind Lost! lost! lost! Mark the golden grains Mary would like to be a bird Nature in every form is lovely still O born beneath the March winds keen. O righteous doom that they rose of Sharon Oh, how could fancy crown with thee Order is heaven's first law Passing away, sing the breeze and the rill |