How sweet to see on brightest banks
The King’s Tree stooped with luscious fruit
No knot or mold on pearly flanks
No rot within its roots
No sunspot wilts the dappled leaf
No wind howls past the bough
No winter snap brings petal grief
No ice crests on its brow
No vulture spreads its dirty wing
No carrion brings the crow
No dregs despoil the crystal spring
By which the good tree grows
But golden leaves are lovely fanned
A crown upon the holy tree
Placed freely by the Holy Hand
Which wove the thorns on Calvary
Here the nations bruised and sore
Shall come on foot appealing
Plucking forth the promised cure
His leaves of grace and healing
