...Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
God's ancient sanctuaries, and adore
Only among the crowd, and under roofs
That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least,
Here, in the shadow of this aged wood,
Offer one hymn--thrice happy, if it find
Acceptance in His ear. A Forest Hymn, William Cullen Bryant
Sweetest days of childhood
Playing in the deep woods
Stomping through the creek and feeling oh so much alive
Camping in the forest
We'd join the cricket chorus
And hum our songs of gratitude around a crackling fire
And out here in the stillness
I found my house of worship
With column trees and canopy of stars
Here in my cathedral
It was beneath the blue skies
I ran down to be baptized
Felt the river wash me clean, and dried beneath the sun
And to this day believing
When wide awake, or dreaming
I scan the ancient sky and understand where I belong
Cause out here in the stillness
I find my house of worship
With column trees and canopy of stars
Here in my cathedral
This is where I find my soul
Out where holy men of old
First knelt in soil and thanked You for the rain
Wrote the psalms that fill the air
Herald angels sang their prayer
Out beneath Your darling constellations
So let me often wander
In robin songs and thunder
Surrounding me with stained-glass leaves that change with every breeze
And out here in the stillness
I'll find my house of worship
With column trees and canopy of stars