The Blind Ploughman

Set my hand upon the plough, my feet upon the sod
Turn my face toward the east and praise be to God
Ev’ry year the rain does fall, the seedlings turn and spring
Ev’ry year the spreading trees shelter birds that sing
From the shelter of your heart, brother drive out sin
Let the little birds of faith come and nest therein
God, who made the sun to shine on both you and me
God, who took away my eyes-that my soul might see!