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Who taught my infant heart to pray,
And can I ever cease to be
Ah! no, the thought I cannot bear;
When thou art feeble, old, and grey.
For God who lives above the skies,
WHEN Samuel heard in still midnight,
Even such a voice I too may hear ;
All that I learn can tell of God;
Within, without, above, around,
STARS, that on your wondrous way Travel through the evening sky,
Is there nothing you can say
Yes, methinks I hear you say,
"Child of mortal race attend: While we run our wondrous way,
Listen, we would be your friend; Teaching you that Name Divine, By whose mighty word we shine.
"Child, as truly as we roll
Through the dark and distant sky, You have an immortal soul,
Born to live when we shall die;
Suns and planets pass away:
"When some thousand years at most,
Shall forsake the firmament; We shall from our glory fall: You must live beyond us all.
"Yes, and God who bade us roll,
"Oh! then, while your breath is given,
COME down into the harvest fields
There's much to hear and see.
The autumn sun shines clearly; And 'tis joy to walk, on days like this, Among the bearded barley.
Within the sunny harvest fields
And the bugles brightly blue;
That opes in the morning early; With a cluster of nuts, an ear of wheat, And an ear of the bearded barley.
Bright over the golden fields of corn