Sweet the rain's new fall, Sunlit from heaven, Like the first dewfall On the first grass.

Morning has broken, Like the first morning, Blackbird has spoken Like the first bird. Praise for the singing! Praise for the morning! Praise for them springing…

Praise with elation, Praise every morning, God's re-creation Of the new day!

The world never knows, and cannot for the life of it imagine, what this man sees in that maid and that maid in this man. The world cannot think why they fell i…

Oh, the moon is fair tonight along the Wabash, From the fields there comes the breath of new-mown hay; Through the sycamores the candle lights are gleaming On …

The buttercups across the field Made sunshine rifts of splendor.

O nightingale, that on yon bloomy spray Warbl'st at eve, when all the woods are still.