GOOD, kindly Mother Nature plays No favorites, but smiles for all Who care to tread her pleasant ways And listen to the song birds’ call. The tulips and the violets grow For all the world to gaze upon; With beauty are the hills aglow Not for a few, but everyone.
Her grass grows green for rich and poor, For proud and humble, high and low; Beside the toiler’s cottage door Her morning glories sweetly grow. In palace or in tenement Her sunbeams just as gayly dance; No special charm to one is sent, No favored few possess her glance.
Her skies are blue for one and all, Her flowers for every mortal bloom; Her rains upon all creatures fall, For all the world is her perfume. The rich man gets no sweeter smile Than does the ragged barefoot boy; Yes, all who live and love the while, May Mother Nature’s charms enjoy.
Ah, what a lesson we may learn From kindly Mother Nature’s ways! A smiling face we seldom turn To strangers, when we meet their gaze. A kindly word we seldom speak Except unto a favored few, And some return we often seek For every kindly deed we do.