I went into the garden, for the day
Had heavy been with toil; the upward way
Was rough; thorns o'er my path were lain;
Bowed was my head with care, my heart with pain.
And as I walked a nesting bird's low call
The promise brought: He knows the sparrow's fall.
The stately lilies swaying in the breeze
Reminded me: None are arrayed like these;
And all the singing, golden, perfumed air
Rang with the message, God is everywhere.
He cares for winging bird, for flower, for tree,
Oh, thou of little faith; much more for thee!
Lo, this I found ere dimmed the sun's last ray,
God walks in gardens, too, at close of day.
