He scattereth dew on the flowers ;
He maketh the desert to bloom —
His blessings descend as the
showers.
Boun - - - tiful, mer ciful, won - - - derful
love ! . . .
2 He causeth the rivers to flow,
The fields now with verdure are clad ;
He tempers the wind to His lambs,
The earth with His fulness is glad.
3 For bounty so royal and free,
For mercies unending and new,
Oh, help us to praise Thee, dear Lord,
And serve Thee in all that we do.