FOR THE BEAUTY OF THE EARTH  
Words: Folliot Sandford Pierpoint

For the beauty of the earth
For the glory of the skies,
For the love which from our birth
Over and around us lies.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the beauty of each hour,
Of the day and of the night,
Hill and vale, and tree and flower,
Sun and moon, and stars of light.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of ear and eye,
For the heart and mind's delight,
For the mystic harmony
Linking sense to sound and sight.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,
Brother, sister, parent, child,
Friends on earth and friends above,
For all gentle thoughts and mild.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy church, that evermore
Lifteth holy hands above,
Offering upon every shore
Her pure sacrifice of love.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For the martyrs' crown of light,
For Thy prophets' eagle eye,
For Thy bold confessors' might,
For the lips of infancy.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thy virgins' robes of snow,
For Thy maiden-mother mild,
For Thyself, with hearts aglow,
Jesu, Victim undefiled.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

For Thyself, best Gift Divine,
To the world so freely given,
For that great, great love of Thine,
Peace on earth and joy in heaven.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,
This our hymn of grateful praise.

THE LORD GOD PLANTED A GARDEN
by Dorothy Frances Gurney

The Lord God planted a garden
  In the first white days of the world,
And he set there an angel warden
  In a garment of light enfurled.

So near to the peace of Heaven,
  That the hawk might nest with the wren,
For there in the cool of the even'
  God walked with the first of men.

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
  The song of the birds for mirth--
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
  Than anywhere else on earth.

TREES
by Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.

KEY TO TRANQUILITY
By D.D. Knight

The ancient forest welcomes back God's son
And daughter who far afield have run.
The lake becalmed or riotous with storm
Assures the wanderers there can come no harm
To souls immersed in poise of earth and sky;
For here are found the dreams men live by.
The ageless trees, the saplings at their feet,
The open land, the dark and mossed retreat,
The circling hills superb in wind or sun,
All these echo man's prayers; 'till he is done
With life's long course and rests like these old friends
Content with all that comes and what God sends.
The farthest star, the nearest clump of dirt,
Tell me to find the healing, not the hurt.

Said a Robin to a Sparrow:

"I would really like to know
why these anxious human beings
rush about and worry so."

Said the Sparrow to the Robin:

"Friend, I think that it must
be, that they have no Heavenly
Father, such as cares for you
and me."

SERVICE
By Edgar A. Guest

You never hear the robins brag about the
  sweetness of their song,
Nor do they stop their music gay whene'er a
  poor man comes along.
God taught them how to sing an' when they'd
  learned the art He sent them here
To use their talents day by day the dreary lives
  o' men to cheer.
An' rich or poor an' sad or gay, the ugly an'
  the fair to see,
Can stop most any time in June an' hear the robins' melody.

I stand an' watch them in the sun, usin' their
  gifts from day to day,
Swellin' their little throats with song, regardless
  of man's praise or pay:
Jes' bein' robins, nothing else, nor claiming 
  greatness for their deeds.
But jes' content to gratify one of the big world's
  many needs,
Singin' a lesson to us all to be ourselves and
  scatter cheer
By usin' every day the gifts God gave us when
  He sent us here.
Why should we keep our talents hid, or think
  we favor men because
We use the gifts that God has given?  The
  robins never ask applause.
Nor count themselves remarkable, nor strut in 
  a superior way,
Because their music sweeter is than that God
  gave unto the jay.
Only a man conceited grows as he makes use of
  talents fine,
Forgetting that he merely does the working of
  the Will Divine.

Lord, as the robins, let me serve!  Teach me to
  do the best I can
To make this world a better place, an' happier
  for my fellow man.
If gift o' mine can cheer his soul an' hearten him
  along his way
Let me not keep that talent hid; I would make
  use of it today.
An' since the robins ask no praise, or pay for all
  their songs o' cheer,
Let me in humbleness rejoice to do my bit o'
  service here.

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