A THOUSAND voices speak of God.
The gayest flower, the meanest clod,
The highest hill, the deepest sea
Proclaim his messages to me.
I read his story in the Book.
I hear it in the babbling brook;
’Tis written all across the sky,
And in the silent majesty
Of mountains, lifting from the land.
A note of his undying word
Is in the song of every bird,
And but to-day my Saviour smiled
From out the features of a child.