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!