O teach me, the sacred hymn, how glad its tidings bring,
A song of joy and giving, which all creation sings.
That lends the hills, their solitude, the flowers, eternal spring,
And life, its days and seasons, and Hope, its stirring wings.
Come, place your hand in mine, let’s together take a walk,
Onto the quiet forest trail, where none can hear us talk.
Hid beneath those shady leaves, slow the hourly clock,
There our pledge of love renew, the fount of youth unlock.
Fortress, ship, our stomping ground,
Climbing, swinging, just clowning ’round.
Where playful shouts and cheers surround,
Of summer days and friendship found.
The setting sun, the closing day,
As golden lit, the chosen way.
Lingering, yet, what mortal sway,
The fading hour, in quiet, lay.
To lose myself in you, my friend, the open sky,
To know you, in and out, to scale the low and high.
Your every nook and cranny, o that none should pass me by,
Unto that ancient dwelling, where angels learn to fly.
Find rest from all your labor, come lay down by my side,
Away from strife and worry, of life’s relentless tide.
Then, let the nightfall claim you, amidst the shadows, hide,
Where none will ever find us, in quiet bliss, abide.