I Love to see the pretty flowers
All covered with the dew,
And many, many happy hours
I’ve spent among them too.
I love to hear the little birds,
That warble in the sky,
To see the many flocks and herds,
And sheep-boys sleeping by.
I love, when summer evenings gleam,
To watch the setting sun,
Sinking behind the western hills,
When his day’s work is done.
I love the tiny snowdrop white,
That blossoms here and there,
Peeping above the frozen ground,
And saying “Spring is near.”
How sweet to view these wondrous works,
Then turn my thoughts above;
And think of Him who made them all,
Ah, this is what I love.
To lift my eyes and view that land,
Where flowers forever bloom,
Where all is sunshine, all is joy,
And winter ne’er can come.
Hail, happy land! I long to tread
Thy golden streets above;
To feast forever in the sight
Of Him whose Name is Love.