WINTER. 329 



We bless thee for this bounteous earth ; 



For its increase for corn and wine ; 

 For forest-oaks, for mountain-rills, 

 For cattle on a thousand hills ; 



We bless thee for all good is thine ! 



The earth is thine, and it thou keepest, 



That man may labour not in vain ; 

 Thou giv'st the grass, the grain, the tree, 

 Seed-time and harvest come from thee, 



The early and the latter rain ! 



The earth is thine the summer earth ; 



Fresh with the dews, with sunshine bright ; 

 With golden clouds in evening hours, 

 With singing birds and balmy flowers, 



Creatures of beauty and delight. 



The earth is thine the teeming earth ; 



In the rich bounteous time of seed, 

 When man goes forth in joy to reap, 

 And gathers up his garner'd heap, 



Against the time of storm and need. 



The earth is thine when days are dim, 



And leafless stands the stately tree ; 

 When from the north the fierce winds blow, 

 When falleth fast the mantling snow ; 



The earth pertaineth still to thee ! 



The earth is thine thy creature, man ! 



Thine are all worlds, all suns that shine ; 

 Darkness and light, and life and death ; 

 Whate'er all space inhabiteth 



Creator ! Father ! all are thine ! 

 28* 



