The Ships Glide in at the Harbor’s Mouth

The ships glide in at the har­bor’s mouth

And the ships sail out to sea;

And the wind that sweeps from the sun­ny south

Is sweet as sweet can be.

There’s a world of toil and a world of pain

And a world of trou­ble and care

But O in a world where our Fa­ther reigns

There is glad­ness ev­ery­where!

The har­vest waves in the bree­zy morn

And the men go forth to reap;

The full­ness comes to the tas­seled corn

Whether we wake or sleep.

And far on the hills by feet un­trod

There are blos­soms that scent the air

For O in this world of our Fa­ther

God

There is beau­ty ev­ery­where!