PART ONE
All beautiful the march of days
As seasons come and go;
The hand that shaped the rose hath wrought
The crystal of the snow，
Hath sent the hoary frost of heaven，
The flowing waters sealed，
And laid a silent loveliness
On hill and wood and field...
O thou from whose unfathomed law
The year in beauty flows，
Thyself and vision passing by
In crystal and in rose，
Day unto day doth utter speech，
And night to night proclaim，
In ever-changing words of light，
The wonder of Thy name.
FRANCES W. WlLE
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