God of the Open Air

I

Thou who hast made Thy dwelling fair

With flowers below, above with starry lights,

And set Thine altars everywhere—

On mountain heights,

In woodlands dim with many a dream,

In valleys bright with springs,

And on the curving capes of every stream;

Thou who has taken to Thyself the wings of morning, to abide

Upon the secret places of the sea,

And on far islands, where the tide

Visits the beauty of untrodden shores,

Waiting for thy worshippers to come to Thee

In Thy great out-of-doors;

To Thee I turn, to Thee I make my prayer,

God of the open air….

II

These are the gifts I ask

Of Thee, Spirit serene:

Strength for the daily task,

Courage to face the road,

Good cheer to help me bear the traveler’s load,

And, for the hours of rest that come between,

An inward joy in all things heard and seen.

These are the sins I fain

Would have Thee take away;

Malice, and cold disdain,

Hot anger, sullen hate,

Scorn of the lowly, envy of the great,

And discontent that casts a shadow gray

On all the brightness of the common clay.

These are the things I prize

And hold of dearest worth:

Light of the sapphire skies,

Peace of the silent hills,

Shelter of forests, comfort of the grass,

Music of birds, murmur of little rills,

Shadows of cloud that swiftly pass,

And after showers,

The smell of flowers,

And of the good brown earth—

And best of all, along the way, friendship and mirth.

So let me keep

These treasures of the humble heart

In true possession, owning them by love;

And when at last I can no longer move

Among them freely, but must part

From the green fields and from the waters clear,

Let me not creep

Into some darkened room and hide

From all that makes the world so bright and dear;

But throw the windows wide

To welcome in the light;

And while I clasp a well beloved hand,

Let me once more have sight

Of the deep sky and the far-smiling land—

Then gently fall on sleep,

And breathe my body back to Nature’s care,

My spirit out to Thee, God of the open air.

-       Henry Van Dyke[1]

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[1] Henry Van Dyke (1852-1933) was an American clergyman, educator, and author. He was born in Germantown, Pennsylvania, and graduated from Princeton, 1873, and Princeton Theological Seminary, 1874. He was pastor of the Brick Presbyterian Church, New York City (1883–99), professor of English literature at Princeton (1899–1923), and U.S. minister to the Netherlands (1913–16). Among his popular inspirational writings is the Christmas story The Other Wise Man (1896). The themes of his sermons are also expressed in his poetry and the essays collected in Little Rivers (1895) and Fisherman’s Luck (1899). He translated (1902) The Blue Flower of Novalis.  (Source: Columbia Encyclopedia)