Godliness with Contentment is Great Gain

Heart's-Ease

by Amy Carmichael

Oh, there was never a blossom 

That bloomed so blithe as she,

On the bitter land, by the salt-wet sand,

On the margin of the sea.

Where never a flower but the gorse can blow,

And the dry sea-pink that the mermen sow, 

There grows she.

Oh, there was never a blossom

That bloomed so brave as she, 

On the narrow ledge of the mountain's edge

Where the wild fowl hardly be.

And over her head the Four Seasons go

With a rush of wings when the Storm Kings blow-

There grows she.

Oh, there was never a blossom 

That bloomed content as she,

In the heart that burned, and loved and learned

Of the Man of Galilee. 

And plant her high, or plant her low, 

In bed of fire, or a field of snow, 

There grows she.