Last night I looked across the hills br And through an arch of darkling pine br Low-swung against a limpid west br I saw a young moon shine. br br And as I gazed there blew a wind, br Loosed where the sylvan shadows stir, br Bringing delight to soul and sense br The breath of dying fir. br br This morn I saw a dancing host br Of poppies in a garden way, br And straight my heart was mirth-possessed br And I was glad as they. br br I heard a song across the sea br As sweet and faint as echoes are, br And glimpsed a poignant happiness br No care of earth might mar. br br Dear God, our life is beautiful br In every splendid gift it brings, br But most I thank Thee humbly for br The joy of little things.