The ships glide in at the har­bor’s mouth,
And the ships sail out to sea;
And the wind that sweeps from the sun­ny south
Is sweet as sweet can be.
There’s a world of toil and a world of pain,
And a world of trou­ble and care,
But O in a world where our Fa­ther reigns,
There is glad­ness ev­ery­where!

The har­vest waves in the bree­zy morn,
And the men go forth to reap;
The full­ness comes to the tas­seled corn,
Whether we wake or sleep.
And far on the hills by feet un­trod
There are blos­soms that scent the air,
For O in this world of our Fa­ther, God,
There is beau­ty ev­ery­where!