A meadow flung far and wide with flowers
Stars twinkle in a studded blanket of night.
Awaiting sunbeams and brisk showers
Strewn capriciously in God’s celestial flight.

Every flower in its brilliant glory
Every creature within His endless reach
They were hewn in His celestial quarry
Every heart He would beseech.

The rich men in their gated gardens
Poor men at their tattered fence
Will find no power to harden
When He comes each soul to recompense.

Each was ordered in his fashion
Of high and low estate
Whether on the mountain bastion
Or struggling among the common slate.

He made the sun to shine upon us
Warm each and all the same
Wind and weather shared without fuss
His intentions to proclaim.