The splendors that the tarnish of this world doth mar—
Such palaces that crumble to a ruined age,
Such garbled memories upon Fame’s fragile page—
When all the lasting glory of our life depends
Upon a little Child, a stable, and a star. (Text.)
(1229)
GLORY OF NATURE
A teacher in Alaska went out one day with one of her pupils to do some sketching. The little girl she took with her was about ten years of age and quite skilful with her brush. When the day was nearly over the teacher looked at the sky where the sun was setting. “Try to make a picture of that sunset,” said the teacher to the pupil. The little girl looked at the beautiful sight in the heavens and then turned to her teacher and said, “I can’t draw glory.” It was a bright answer made by that little Alaska girl. It is God who has painted the sunset sky, and there is no human skill that can draw the glory which He has created.—W. M. Vines.
(1230)
GOD