[Written for the Sentinel]

The Father's Planting

Ev'ry plant that my Father planteth
May grow in my garden fair;
Ev'ry flower that my Father loveth
Hath His tender and watchful care.
He tendeth the sheep of His pasture
With careful and vigilant eye,
And never a flower so tiny
That His love passeth it by.

He giveth the warmth and the sunshine;
He giveth the rain and the night:
He closeth their eyes in the darkness,
And openeth them in the light;
He clothes them with raiment more lovely
Than the rainbow in heaven unfurled;
And he feeds them the selfsame manna
He offers a hungering world.

Ev'ry plant that my Father planteth
He plants with a purpose pure:
Ev'ry flower that my Father loveth
Hath a fruitage perfect and sure;
And the love, the joy, or the patience
That there in my garden grows,
Is as plain to the eye that sees it
As the beauty of lily or rose.

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