Great Giv­er of all good,
To Thee our thanks we yield
For all the beau­ties of the wood,
Of hill, and dale, and field.

Ten thou­sand var­ious flow­ers
To Thee sweet of­fer­ings bear,
And joy­ous birds in wood­lands bow­ers
Sing forth Thy ten­der care.

The fields on ev­ery side
The trees on ev­ery hill,
The glo­ri­ous sun, the roll­ing tide,
Proclaim Thy won­ders still.

But trees, and fields, and skies
Still praise a God un­known;
For gra­ti­tude and love can rise
From liv­ing hearts alone.

These liv­ing hearts of ours
Thy ho­ly name would bless;
The blos­soms of the thou­sand flow­ers
Would please the Sav­ior less.

While earth it­self de­cays,
Our souls can nev­er die;
O tune them all to sing Thy praise
In bet­ter songs on high.