T he world's a pleasant picture-book, Wherein my eyes may daily look, And see the things set there to please: Mountains and valleys, rocks and trees. Soft rivers where the sunbeams play; The blue sky spread far, far away; Bright flowers that blossom at my feet, The tender grass, the ripened wheat. Though I am young, I may grow wise When on this book I turn my eyes, And, as I look, with reverence see The pictures painted there for me. 'Tis God Who made this book so fair, Who gave the colours that are there; Who paints the daisies red and white, And in the sky sets stars at night. Frank Ellis. |