The little cares that fretted me,
I lost them yesterday,
Among the fields above the sea,
Among the winds at play.
Among the lowing of the herds
The rustling of the trees
Among the singing of the birds
The humming of the bees
The foolish fears of what might pass
I cast them all away
Among the clover-scented grass
Among the new-mown hay
Among the hushing of the corn
Where drowsy poppies nod
Where ill thoughts die and good are born
Out in the fields with God.
