Sunday, January 24, 2010

March of days


All beautiful the March of days, as
seasons come and go;
The Hand that shaped the rose hath
wrought the crystal of the snow;
Hath sent the hoary frost of heaven,
the flowing waters sealed,
And laid a silent loveliness on hill
and wood and field.

O'r white expanses sparkling pure
the radiant morns unfold;
The solemn splendors of the night
burn brighter than the cold;
Life mounts in every throbbing vein,
love deepens round the hearth,
And clearer sounds the angel hymn,
"Good will to men on earth."

O Thou from Whose unfathomed
law the year in beauty flows,
Thyself the vision passing by in
crystal and in rose,
Day unto day doth utter speech, and
night to night proclaim,
In ever changing words of light, the
wonder of Thy Name.

_Frances Whitmarsh Wile (1878-1939)

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