God clothes the earth with loveliness each spring.
Such pledge of coming wealth no other season
Will give or half fulfill; 'tis then high treason
To say that beauty is not great, or fling
The gauntlet down to nature. Rather, sing
A clumsy song from thankful hearts that love
The fair, sweet gifts God sends us from above:
In spring He gives all life awakening!
Trees seeming dead turn green, and blossoms bud
On roses and a thousand plants beside.
Seeds sprout and bloom and bear. Out of black mud
Comes food for man and beast. The Christ who died
Leaves death's cold ark behind as at the flood,
To bring us glad good news at Eastertide!

May, 1953