When Spring Unlocks the Flowers

When spring un­locks the flow­ers

To paint the laugh­ing soil;

When sum­mer’s bal­my show­ers

Refresh the mow­er’s toil;

When win­ter binds in fros­ty chains

The fal­low and the flood;

In God the earth re­joic­eth still

And owns his mak­er good.

The birds that wake the morn­ing

And those that love the shade;

The winds that sweep the mount­ain

Or lull the drow­sy glade;

The sun that from his am­ber bow­er

Rejoiceth on his way

The moon and stars their mas­ter’s name

In si­lent pomp dis­play.

Shall man

the lord of na­ture

Expectant of the sky

Shall man alone

un­thank­ful

His lit­tle praise de­ny?

No

let the year for­sake his course

The sea­sons cease to be

Thee

Mas­ter

must we al­ways love

And Sav­ior

hon­or Thee.

The flow­ers of spring may wi­ther

The hope of sum­mer fade

The au­tumn droop in win­ter

The birds for­sake the shade;

The winds be lulled—the sun and moon

Forget their old de­cree;

But we

in na­ture’s lat­est hour

O Lord! will cling to Thee!