In the beauty of the rose,
In the evening star that glows,
God is speaking to my soul,
Telling me of Love's control.
And within each tiniest flower
I can see the Father's power;
His own beauty of design
In the tall and fragrant pine.
Sunlit mornings sweet and fair,
Blossom incense in the air,
Speak of Love that's ever new,
Gladdening, brightening, like the dew.
Bird songs tell reflected joy,
Care-free bliss without alloy;
Thus in all I see and hear
I can feel the Father near.
And the twilight, soft and dim,
Brings to me sweet thoughts of Him
Who in loving, sheltering arms
Keeps His own from all that harms.
* The First Church of Christ, Scientist, and Miscellany, page 87.
