God of the Open Air

These are the things I prize

And hold of dearest worth:

Light of the sapphire skies,

Peace of the silent hills,

Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass,

Music of birds, murmur of little rills,

Shadow of clouds that swiftly pass,

And, after showers,

The smell of flowers

And of the good brown earth,--

And best of all, along the way, friendship and mirth.

So let me keep

These treasures of the humble heart

In true possession, owning them by love;

And when at last I can no longer move

Among them freely, but must part

From the green fields and from the waters clear,

Let me not creep

Into some darkened room and hide

From all that makes the world so bright and dear;

But throw the windows wide

To welcome in the light;

And while I clasp a well-beloved hand,

Let me once more have sight

Of the deep sky and the far-smiling land,--

Then gently fall on sleep,

And breathe my body back to Nature's care,

My spirit out to thee, God of the open air.

Henry Van Dyke  ©