how great and noble is the Oak that
grows in midst of the garden
the heights of His canopy is unmatched
his leaves outnumber the stars of the heavens
to drink from the dew of His cup is to never thirst
in His embrace every living thing finds rest
the fruit of the Vine is ripe in abundance
He who eats of it will never hunger
all the beasts of the earth rest on this feet
the birds of the Heaven’s roost in His branches and
it is good