My Father's World

Just when everyone thought they were done reading post upon post about our hiking trip, we have one more (for now).  Each morning in the huts the crews would do a wake-up call.  One morning someone played This is My Father's World on the guitar.  It was such a fitting way to start the morning and I must admit that the song stuck in my head much of the week.  Now that I have read a little more about the history of the song it is even more fitting.  The words were written by Maltbie Babcock in 1901.  He lived in New York and would like to go on hikes up to a rock ledge with a view of the surrounding forest, farms, and villages.  The story has it that when Mr. Babcock would head off on his hike he would tell others he was going out to see his Father's world.  Omnia Vincit Amor.

This is my Father’s world, and to my listening ears

All nature sings, and round me rings the music of the spheres.

This is my Father’s world: I rest me in the thought

Of rocks and trees, of skies and seas;

His hand the wonders wrought.

This is my Father’s world, the birds their carols raise,

The morning light, the lily white, declare their Maker’s praise.

This is my Father’s world: He shines in all that’s fair;

 In the rustling grass I hear Him pass;

He speaks to me everywhere.

This is my Father’s world. O let me ne’er forget

That though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet.

This is my Father’s world: the battle is not done:

Jesus Who died shall be satisfied,

And earth and Heav’n be one.