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