Noontide Hymn

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!