i am grown weary for new scenes

but not of human make.

but o! for hills and long green fields,

a splintered, glittering lake.

this day i am an intimate

with sky and bird and tree.

with budding boughs and turbulent streams

and god’s immensity.

i am enamored with fresh days

drenched with rain and sun.

the tho’t of thine omnipotence

o! god has made me dumb.

thy goodness is so wide, a thing

beat, for me slower time.

i cannot sing so great a song

in one short life like mine.