The God of the Open Air. 
17 
And on far islands, where the tide 
Visits tlie beauty of untrodden shores. 
Waiting for worshippers to come to Thee 
In Thy great out-of-doors. 
To Thee I turn, to Thee I make my prayer, 
God of the open air. 
II. 
Seeking for Thee the heart of man 
Lonely and longing ran 
In that first solitary hour 
When the mysterious power 
To know and love the wonder of the morn 
W'as breathed within him, and his soul was born; 
And Thou didst meet Thy child, 
Not in some hidden shrine, 
But in the freedom of the garden wild. 
And take his hand in Thine ; 
There all day long in Paradise he walked. 
And in the cool of evening with Thee talked. 
III. 
Lost, long ago, that garden bright and pure, 
Lost that calm day, too perfect to endure; 
And lost the child-like lo\ e that worshipped and was sure ! 
For men have dulled their eyes with sin, 
And dimmed the light of Heaven with doubt. 
And built their temple walls to shut Thee in. 
And framed their iron creeds to shut Thee out. 
But not for Thee the closing of the door, 
O Spirit unconfined ! 
Thy ways are free 
As is the wandering wind : 
And Thou hast wooed Thy children to restore 
Their fellowship with Thee, 
In peace of soul and simpleness of mind. 
IV. 
Joyful the heart that, when the flood rolled by, 
Leaped up to see the rainbow in the sky; 
