Shade

The kindliest thing God ever made,

His hand of very healing laid

Upon a fevered world, is shade.

Hid glorious company of trees

Throw ou their mantles, and on the se

The dust-stained wanderer finds ease.

Green temples, closed against the beat

Of noontide's blinding glare and heat,

Open to any pilgrim's feet.

The white road blister in the sun,

Now, half the weary journey done,

Enter the rest, O weary one!

And feel the dew of dawn still wet

Beneath thy feet, and so forget

The burning highway' s ache and fret.

This is God's hospitality,

And who so rests beneath a tree

Hath cause to thank Him gratefully.