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Most Blest
Rachel Hartnett

I love to be out in the morn
When the sun peeks o'er the hill,
The dew is sparkling on the grass
And Nature's sleeping, still.

I love to walk among my flowers
To breathe their fragrance rare,
And revel in the loneliness
Of the colors that they wear.

But evening has a special charm -
The breezes softly touch,
And a dove will sing the sweetest songs-
The ones I love so much.

This truly is a precious time -
When toil is given rest,
And prayers ascend from grateful hearts
To make these hours most blest.

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