A Holiday Hymn
He, unto whom the Heavenly Father
Hath in His works Himself revealed,
Sees with rapt eyes the glory gather
O’er hill and forest, flood and field.
He, when the torrent laughs in thunder,
Larks soar exulting in the blue,
Thrills with the waterfall’s glad wonder,
Far up to heaven goes singing too;
Wanders, a child among the daisies;
Ponders, a poet, all things fair;
Wreathes with the rose of dawn his praises,
Weaves with eve’s passion-flowers his prayer;
Full sure that He who reared the mountain,
Made smooth the valley, plumed the height,
Holds in clear air the lark and fountain—
Shall yet uplift him into light.