If you would learn God’s manners,
Fare forth some summer morn,
And see the roses cover
The sharpness of the thorn.
See the sun shining brightly,
Chasing the clouds away,
And hear the words of gladness
The little people say.
Look at the green crops growing
Up through the dewy air,
And see the love and beauty
Around you everywhere.
No ugliness or evil
Appears in sky or clod.
Ask any summer morning,
If you would learn of God.