Between the slender lofty trees
who's boughs near touched overhead,
And sounds of busy humming bees,
My wandering feet are gently lead.
Down winding little narrow lane,
Across the rolling countryside.
To steeple church with weathered vane,
And daring squirrels quickly hide,
Patchwork of fields, dappled green,
The waving greatly heads of corn,
Then sprays of barley green.
And sound of bells softly borne;
that look to Heaven slowly wings,
With throbbing song that fills the sky
and lovely peace of summer brings,
And scudding clouds riding high!
Oh God! The beauty I have seen!