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     And give to every clime and soil
The beauty lost so long.

Our homestead flowers and fruited trees
     May Eden's orchard shame;
We taste the tempting sweets of these
     Like Eve, without her blame.

And, North and South and East and West,
     The pride of every zone,
The fairest, rarest, and the best
     May all be made our own.

Its earliest shrines the young world sought
     In hill-groves and in bowers,
The fittest offerings thither brought
     Were Thy own fruits and flowers.

And still with reverent hands we cull
     Thy gifts each year renewed;
The good is always beautiful,
     The beautiful is good.

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May Eden (1)
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