To Him All Life Was Beauty

To Him All Life Was Beauty

To Him all life was Beauty. The sun upon the hills,

The sweeping shadows, and the winding lane.

Morning He loved, with dewdrops on the flowers;

Evening, with sunset and soft, warm April rain.

Friends He found in lepers stumbling to Him, 

Love in those who hate, grace in sinner's eyes.

Dawn He saw with all earth's new-born glory, 

Twilight and darkness, and hope in human sighs.

Youth was His, and springtime, and music in the trees;

Life was His, and sunshine, and the murmuring of the bees;

Joy in healing broken hearts; manhood's noble strife;

All the wonder and the beauty of a sacred human life.

He walked the common lanes, the city streets He trod,

And in His heart was Beauty . . . the Beauty born of God.

- A. L. C.