Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to day is, and to morrow is cast into the oven, shall He not much more clothe you?
Matthew 6:28–30
Words: Elizabeth B. Browning (1806–1861).
Music: I Bring My All to Thee, secular melody (🔊 pdf nwc).
Alternate Tune:
The little cares which fretted me,
I lost them yesterday
Among the fields, above the sea,
Among the winds at play;
Among the lowing of the herds,
The rustling of the trees,
Among the singing of the birds,
The humming of the bees.
The foolish fears of what may come,
I cast them all away
Among the clover scented grass,
Among the new mown hay;
Among the hushing of the corn,
Where drowsing poppies nod,
Ill thoughts can die, and good be born,
Out in the fields of God.