Clifford W. Ketchum
While standing here in sunshine's silver sheen,
I contemplate God's rich creative power:
From lowly plants to stately trees that tower,
And point the way whence all the glories stream.
Canoes glide o'er the silver lake serene;
Glad birds' song sweetens each enchanted hour;
And round the shores, form every hedge and bower
Contentment, beauty, grandeur reign supreme.
Ah, can it be, that here in paradise,