God of all com­fort, calm and fair
Stretch the broad plains be­neath Thine eye;
And si­lent, through the ha­zy air,
Rise the blue hills to meet the sky.

The mu­sic of the Sab­bath bells
Floats soft­ly on the bal­my air,
And the green earth in thou­sand tones
Lifts to Thy throne her grate­ful pray­er.

God of all com­fort, deep­er far
Than the glad voice of earth or sea,
Swells the full tide of thank­ful song
Our hearts would of­fer unto Thee.

Yet when we strive, our lips can frame
No words to speak Thy match­less love,
So far the ho­nor of Thy name
Lies all our high­est thoughts above.

Read Thou with­in our si­lent hearts,
The songs they vain­ly seek to raise,
And count their grate­ful tears for pray­er,
Their trem­bling joy for tune­ful praise.