Poetry

By Orson Scott Card


Hymn: All That the Earth Can Yield

All that the earth can yield,
All that seeds can hold,
Sheep within the fold;
Fruit of a heavy field
Or fallen from tree and vine:
They are already thine.
All that I think I own,
All within my hand,
House and plot of land;
All that I’ve reaped and sown
And all that the world calls mine:
They are already thine.
All of the dreams of youth,
Memories of age,
Life at every stage;
All that I know of truth
And all that is sweet and fine:
It is already thine.
All of the trust I’ve earned,
All of the tears I’ve shed,
Hungry souls I’ve fed;
All of the love I’ve learned,
Lord, all that is truly mine:
It is already thine.