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!
(a prayer by George MacDonald, from Poetical Works, Vol. 1)
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