Our life contains a thousand springs, And dies if one be gone. Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long.
Earth, thou great footstool of our God, who reigns on high; thou fruitful source of all our raiment, life, and food; our house, our parent, and our nurse.
Kind words toward those you daily meet, Kind words and actions right, Will make this life of ours most sweet, Turn darkness into night.
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