"This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears.
All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.
This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought
Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;
His hand the wonders wrought."
"This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,
The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.
This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;
He speaks to me everywhere."
"This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget
That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.
This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:
Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,
And earth and Heav’n be one."
"This is my Father’s world. I walk a desert lone.Thursday it was warm, even hot by many standards. Friday a front went through; temperatures dropped forty degrees and a cold rain moved in. Saturday brought more showers, gray skies and in some areas, short spits of snow... but not at our house. Today the sun is shining and glorious, yet the wind is blustery and biting. Change is inevitable. Temperature, weather, seasons, locations, circumstances, cultures, governments... the list seems endless. But God never changes. The intricate patterns of His Creation continue to reveal His Glory and Majesty. This is my Father's world.
In a bush ablaze to my wondering gaze God makes His glory known.
This is my Father’s world, a wanderer I may roam
Whate’er my lot, it matters not,
My heart is still at home."
~ Maltbie Davenport Babcock (1901)
(end of post)