Hymn for high summer (

When the turtle doves are purring
in the hedgerow and the copse,
and a gentle breeze is playing
over fields and green tree-tops;

When the white clouds in the blue sky
cast cool shadows on the earth,
and the meadow grass is stirring,
swaying to the Spirit’s breath;

When, above, the swifts are wheeling
and, below, the wise ants toil,
garnering the bounteous harvest
of the sun- and rain-drenched soil:

souls are touched and, for a moment,
even sorrow’s burden lifts;
we give thanks for all these blessings,
all the summer’s countless gifts.

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