Out in the Fields with God

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 may happen,

I cast them all away,

Among the clover-scented grass,

Among the new-mown hay;

Among the rustling of the corn,

Where drowsy poppies nod,

Where ill thoughts die and good are born—

Out in the fields with God.

—Elizabeth Bennett Browning

My new favorite poem - I've been singing it to myself for the past few days as I walk across campus (not a good idea...)