I am the century on the hill,
Watching, watching , gaunt and still
Watching the lake, the streams, the snow.
Watching the seasons come and go.
I can tell you of years gone by.
Of wars, and men and wolves that cry.
"Progress!" men cry as they tear the earth And cut the trees and rob the birth Of animals both great and small "Profit!" men scream with hands of greed, For what do they care of my heart that bleeds, As each hill goes, one by one, To the idols of gold and people's fun. (ski lifts)
Of man! when will you ever learn
Progress is not how much money you earn, But knowing only what I know Of God, and sun, and trees that grow And that these hills must sacred be, And kept in tact for you and me.
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I have a little hideaway down underneath the trees, And I can watch the stream go by and feel the gentle breeze And feel the green graass under foot, and know that God has smiloed And wish that I could always be, forever natures child.
When family problems get too much and I am close to tears, I find my little hideaway, and there away from ears, I tell my troubles to the trees. They answer me you know, They tell me that they, too, feel pain when winter winds do blow, And takes away their leaves of green for branches brown and bare
They tell me pain is part of life, but God is always fair, And Spring will come again, and bring it's blossoms white, And birds will sing and grass will grow, asnd I will be alright.
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I walk amid the giants, silent, magestic and tall And yet I hear a voice from them, that whispers to us all.
I hear it in the wind, and in the rocks that break.
I hear it in the pinecone's drop, and the lapping of the lake.
It says:
"Your not alone upon this earch. There is a plan and planner And you, like these. have vital worth, You special child of nature."
I wipe the tears that freely flow, and feel a peace within, And wish that I could always know, this calm where trees have been.
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Take my life Lord, let it be,
Consecrated unto Thee
Take my heart, my mind, my hands
May Satans power, strong as iron bands,
Be loosened by Thy matchless love
Help me Lord to realize,
This wondrous power from above
Comes only as my prayers do rise,
From faith imperfect to the skies,
Where Thou are waiting, me to give
Not because I'm worthy, But because you love me And I know that you live!