I love thy skies, thy sunny mists,
Thy fields, thy mountains hoar,
Thy wind that bloweth where it lists—
Thy will, I love it more.
I love thy hidden truth to seek
All round, in sea, on shore;
The arts whereby like gods we speak—
Thy will to me is more.
I love thy men and women, Lord,
The children round thy door;
Calm thoughts that inward strength afford—
Thy will than these is more.
But when thy will my life doth hold
Thine to the very core,
The world, which that same will doth mould,
I love, then, ten times more!