FARMER'S HYMN. 



God of the hills and verdant plains, 



I bless tliy ruling hand — 

 For di-ifting snows and gentle rains, 

 Are sent by thy command. 



The opening Spring is deck'd with green. 

 With each dcllirhtful flower, 



And every leaf and bnd that's seen, 

 Bears impress of thy power. 



The ripening summer's burning sun — 

 The winter's piercing cold — 



The changing seasons as they run, 

 Thy wisdom, Lord, unfold. 



The joy that centres in my cot. 

 No less thy wisdom owns ; — 

 With iTiral happiness my lot, 

 cannot envy thrones. 



Love dwells within my peaceful breast. 

 At every morning's dawn — 



And when the sun sinks in the west, 

 My cares arc all withdrawn. 



Although secluded from the mart 

 Where crowd the thoughtless gay— 



Wherein the scenes that vex the heart. 

 Men waste their lives away ; 



Beside the hill, the purling brook — 

 Glad nature's fond retreat — 



With gratitude to Thee I look. 

 And songs of joy repeat. 



For lot so blest, my voice I raise. 



Almighty God, to Thee ; 

 Thou needest not an angel's praise. 



Much less snch praise from me. 



But I will bless thy bounteous hand. 



For all thy gifts bestowed ; 

 Before my heart could understand, 

 Ten thousand thanks I owed. 



384 



