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Thou Art To Me
by Arthur MacyThou art to me
As are soft breezes to a summer sea;
As stars unto the night;
Or when the day is born,
As sunrise to the morn;
As peace unto the fading of the light.
Thou art to me
As one sweet flower upon a barren lea;
As rest to toiling hands;
As one clear spring amid the desert sands;
As smiles to maidens' lips;
As hope to friends that wait for absent ships;
As happiness to youth;
As purity to truth;
As sweetest dreams to sleep;
As balm to wounded hearts that weep.
All, all that I would have thee be
Thou art to me.