Hymn: All That the Earth Can Yield

By Orson Scott Card

All that the earth can yield,

All that seeds can hold,

Sheep within the fold;

Fruit of a heavy field

Or fallen from tree and vine:

They are already thine.

All that I think I own,

All within my hand,

House and plot of land;

All that I’ve reaped and sown

And all that the world calls mine:

They are already thine.

All of the dreams of youth,

Memories of age,

Life at every stage;

All that I know of truth

And all that is sweet and fine:

It is already thine.

All of the trust I’ve earned,

All of the tears I’ve shed,

Hungry souls I’ve fed;

All of the love I’ve learned,

Lord, all that is truly mine:

It is already thine.