Who gave the rose its beauteous tint,
Its fragrance rich and rare?
Who decks the earth with varied green,
And blossoms bright and fair?
The flowers are His, whose mighty hand
Created all of old;
Sweet tokens of His love, that man
His wonders might behold.
And when, through sin, the way was barred,
To shut us out from God;
His love devised an open way,
Through Jesus’ precious blood.
Take thy young heart to Him, that He
May fill it with His joy,
And treasures more than earth can give,
Which time can ne’er destroy.
ML 06/09/1918