This Is My Father’s World

This isn’t the weekly poem I had planned for last week.  And it’s not the one I had planned for this week.  It’s the one I simply must post this week.

So here’s hymn 600 from the old blue Anglican Hymn Book (a hymn not to be found in Common Praise), with the pure, proper, unadulterated lyrics of the Rev. Maltbie D. Babcock, 1901:

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 tress, 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 heaven be one. Amen.

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