O God of the Seasons! we bring
To Thee our thankoff'rings of praise;
We soar with the lark; as we sing,
The skies shall re-echo our lays,
To us fruitful seasons Thou giv'st,
Thou gives the bright sunshine and rain,
And food to each creature that lives,
To satisfy, nourish, sustain.
Spring comes like a beautiful child-
Shy, timid, afraid to come forth;
Oft smiling, oft sullen, and wild,
In gales from the east and the north.
The full swelling buds she expands,
She opens the infantine blooms;
She calls-at the touch of her hand
They rise from their dark wintry tombs!
The Summer, in mantle of flowers,
Rose-crown'd, with the grace of a queen;
Sweet choristers sing in her bowers,
With music of streamlets between.
The Sun, in his chariot of fire,
Speeds o'er the blue pathway above;
His fervours all nature inspire
With harmony, beauty, and love.
Grave Autumn, with motherly care,
Spreads out with a bountiful hand
For her children enough and to spare
From the full-ripen'd fruits of the land.
The sere leaves are dropping-the flowers
Are faded. How soothing the balm
She sheds o'er the fields and the bowers!
How sweet, yet how solemn the calm!
Stern Winter! wild warfare to wage,
His legions leads out of the north;
His storm-trumpet sounds to engage,
As howling and fierce they go forth.
Fair Nature, cold frozen and dead,
At the feet of her foe is lying;
A snowdrift to cover her head,
And her darlings around her dying!
O God of the Seasons! to Thee
Ascribe we all blessing and love;
Each change of the seasons we see
Thy wisdom and goodness still prove.
Unchanging in purpose and power,
Unchanging in truth and in grace;
O grant us when change is no more,
To dwell in the light of Thy face.