The Fields
Across the fields my feet did wander, No fixed destination but yonder. The rising land, the cool fresh air, My heart was light, and the day fair. And in strolling through that natural scene, Heaven’s distance seemed much less between. As I walked, a new pasture I passed, It’s nature quite different to last. The previous ‘twas cropped short, clean It’s attendance and care clearly seen. But this meadow long deprived a mow, And thus therein great weeds did gro...