As God takes care of the blade of grass, even more does He offer salvation to the human soul. Written by American Transcendentalist Jones Very.
Visit me with Thy salvation
Wilt Thou not visit me?
The plant beside me feels Thy gentle dew;
Each blade of grass I see,
From Thy deep earth its quickening moisture drew.
Wilt Thou not visit me?
Thy morning calls on me with cheering tone;
And every hill and tree
Lend but one voice, the voice of Thee alone.
Come! for I need Thy love,
More than the flower the dew, or grass the rain;
Come, like Thy holy dove,
And let me in Thy sight rejoice to live again.
Yes; Thou wilt visit me;
Nor plant nor tree Thine eye delights so well
As when, from sin set free,
Man's spirit comes with Thine in peace to dwell.
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