God Is Love
By Ann Hawkshaw
Oh, that I know, indeed, is true,
For He has made the sky of blue,
And spread the earth with quiet green,
While azure waters flow between,
Because those colours are the best
On which the wearied eye can rest.
Oh yes, all tells us God is love,
Around, beneath us, or above:
Round us are flowers, that without care
Grow wildly, blooming everywhere,
And noble trees, beneath whose shade
The pale Spring flowrets bloom and fade.
Beneath us, deep within their bed,
The precious gems and ores are spread,
Diamonds and rosy rubies shine,
And metals fill the secret mine,
And that dark mass* which we require
At eve, to light our cheerful fire.
Above us is the glorious sun;
And when his brighter course is run,
The silvery moon looks forth, and makes
A path of light o’er seas and lakes;
And in the hushed and solemn night
Wander the starry worlds of light.
Within us, as around, above,
Something still whispers God is Love;
For He hath given us hearts to feel
A gladness tongue cannot reveal—
Vainly had beauty round us been,
Had we no minds to love the scene!
