His love is sweeter than a garden,
    Whose blossoms promise fruit to come.
His love is wider than the valley,
    That holds my garden and my home.
And when the waning sunlight gold plates this valley view,
    I rest in meadows filled with flow'rs of His love ever new.

He leads me like a loving shepherd,
    Who knows the hazards of the trail.
He sheilds me like a stand of aspen,
    With springtime leaves that will not fail.
I tread the climbing footpath in search of grander scenes,
    Still knowing that the upward glance taps wealth beyond my means.

I hear him in the lofty mountain,
    That bids me climb it's rugged slope.
I see him in the laughing river,
    That flows from alpine springs of hope.
Someday I'll reach the summit; cross o'er the river's bend,
    And heed love's invitation to life that will not end.