I count the ways in which we reap|
The golden sun, the lamb the sheep,
The golden barley, the swaying tree,
The butterfly and the honey bee.
The swaying corn on lease
Under a blue sky so at peace,
Wild flowers sway to and frow
In fields of green and hedgerow.
As Mister hare lowers his head
In case of danger and shot of lead,
Little field mouse wanders about
In search of food for his family no doubt.
As Mister barn owl old sleepy head
Looks up and around and goes back to bed,
Farmer Hardin goes about his work
As in his flower garden sparrows do lurk.
And out of the corner of my eye
A peacock struts his colours as he goes by,
On a day full of quiet and bliss
Serene and happy is this.
As the sun settles down for the night
I listen to a chorus of feathered delight,
And as I look up at the silver stars
I blow them a goodnight kiss,
And thank the lord above
For the wonder of all of this.
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