The lambkins are skipping

The lambkins are skipping,

O'er meadows green;

The birds with their singing,

Enchant the scene.

The bees are now buzzing,

'Mid flowers gay;

All nature's resounding,

With joyous lay.

To earth is God looking,

With holy love;

The crowd e'er beholding,

So busily move.

Each creature supplying,

With daily food;

No cause for complaining;

Their God is good.