In a Country Garden

When I must leave the earth, I hope to see

The gentle Master by a willow tree,

A wild canary pouring forth its song,

And a little river dancing all along

Its way through gardens. I would feel alone

And shy before Him on a golden throne,

But in a country garden, He would reach

His arms to me and speak the simple speech

I know. And I would run the Him and say,

"I'm glad you have a garden. May I stay

And help you tend it? Then I would not grieve

For all earth's beauty that I had to leave.

I know the ways of gardens, country-wild ..."

And he would smile and answer, "Yes, my child."