As lovely as the roses of Eden.

As pure as heaven’s sweet wine.

With saints and angels agree then,

Christ Jesus is Beauty Divine.

A singer without a song,

a dancer without a tune,

is like a poet all alone,

no paper, no pen, no moon.

But God in all His grace,

as is nature at its best,

made the human race,

then hid for each a treasure chest.

-

marked their laughter,

counted every toss.

Of those shadowy strangers,

squabbling over pettiness

at the foot of His cross...