Mark the soft-falling snow,
And the descending rain:
To heaven, from whence it fell,
It turns not back again;
But waters earth
Through every pore,
And calls forth all
Her secret store.

Arrayed in beauteous green,
The hills and valleys shine;
And man and beast are fed
by providence divine.
The harvest bows
Its golden ears,
The copious seed
Of future years.

“So,” saith the God of grace,
“My gospel shall descend,
“Almighty to effect
“The purpose I intend.
“Millions of souls
“Shall feel its power,
“And bear it down
“To millions more.”

A Selection of Hymns, from Various Authors, Supplementary for the use of Christians. st Ed.,