While standing here in sunshine's silver sheen,
by Clifford W. Ketchum
I contemplate God's rich creative power:
From lowly plants to stately trees that tower,
And point the way whence all the glories stream.
Canoes glide o'er the silver lake serene;
Glad birds' song sweetens each enchanted hour;
And round the shores, form every hedge and bower
Contentment, beauty, grandeur reign supreme.
Ah, can it be, that here in paradise,
Amid such symphony of sound and sight,
My languid heart is slow to realize
The full extent - the breadth, the depth, the height
Of nature's bounteous beauty? Touch these eyes,
This heat, that I might savor each delight.