'Tis a pleasant Sunday morning,
And the sun is shining clear,
Ever giving us a warning
That our God is always near.
Now a breeze, as though from springtime,
Wafts itself from o'er the lake,
Bringing with it all the sweet chimes
From the church bells in its wake.
As the golden sunshine cometh
Softly through my window pane,
As the rippling water runneth
O'er the pebbles to the main,
As the trees, in breezes swaying,
Gently bow their heads, inclined,
Seems to me I hear them saying;
'Peace on earth to all mankind.'
Now that God is in his Glory,
Let us praise Him more and more;
Let us sing the offertory
Till to Him on high we soar.