How can men doubt when seasons move
In perfect continuity, When sun and stars and tides but prove
God’s constant harmony?
Who else could build the mountains high
And stoop to make a flower,
Then set the planets in the sky
With such majestic power?
Who else, before man’s need arose,
Could fill the mines with ore,
Build rivers from the spring that flows,
Stretch oceans shore to shore?
By star and blossom, tide and bird
That wends its trackless way
Even the least, without Thy Word,
Will, humbled, kneel to pray.
MARIE J. POST