Enough and to spare of the buttercups gold
That wander the meadow over;
Enough and to spare of the dandelion,
The gay little vagabond rover.
Enough and to spare in the robin's nest
For the soft mother-wing to cover;
Enough and to spare in the thrush's note,
The shy, sweet woodland lover.
Enough and to spare of the brooklet's flow,
With its silvery rush and chatter;
Enough and to spare of the summer shower,
With its musical plash and patter.
Enough and to spare of the sky's deep blue,
With its feathery cloud-ships flying;
Enough and to spare of the breezes that blow
Through the boughs of pine-trees sighing.
Enough and to spare in our Father's house,
For His children homeward turning;
Enough and to spare for His little lambs,
Ever heavenward yearning.
