A bristled frond of grass is sheathed in icy lace
Starry patterns spangle its feathered stem
Blooming there in silent filigree of glass.A child is a bright sprout of joy
A flicker of clambering movement at play
Whose features ripple into an exultant smile–a crowning glory–
Through which a jubilance eternal leaps.
How can so small a thing
Show forth the glory
Of so great a God?