Out in the Fields with God. 



The Httle cares that fretted me, 



I lost them yesterda'y 

 Among the fields, above the sea, 



Among the winds at play, 

 Among the lowing of the herds. 



Among the rustling of the trees. 

 Among the singing of the birds, 



The humming of the bees. 



The foolish fears of what may happen, 



I cast them all away 

 Among the clover-scented grass. 



Among the new-mown hay. 

 Among the rustling of the corn. 



Where the drowsy poppies nod, 

 Where ill thoughts die and good are born, 



Out in the fields with God. 



— Anonymous. 



