Good Is the Lord, the Heav’nly King

Good is the Lord

the heav’n­ly King

Who makes the earth His care;

Visits the pas­tures ev­ery spring

And bids the grass ap­pear.

The clouds like riv­ers raised on high

Pour out at Thy com­mand

Their wa­tery bless­ings from the sky

To cheer the thirs­ty land.

The soft­ened ridg­es of the field

Permit the corn to spring;

The val­leys rich pro­vi­sion yield

The poor­est la­bor­ers sing.

The lit­tle hills

on ev­ery side

Rejoice at fall­ing show­ers;

The mea­dows

dressed in all their pride

Perfume the air with flow­ers.

The bar­ren clods re­freshed with rain

They pro­mise joy­ful crop;

The parch­ing grounds look green again

And raise the reap­er’s hope.

The va­ri­ous months Thy good­ness crowns;

How boun­te­ous Thy ways!

The bleat­ing flocks spread o’er the downs

And sheph­erds shout Thy praise.