Deft and dear as daisies and pansies,
He crowned His work with the gift of song.
“Dearlings,” He said, “make songs for my praises!”
He tossed them loose to the sun and the wind,
Airily sweet as pansies and daisies;
He taught them to build a nest to their mind.
The dear Lord God of His glories weary—
Christ our Lord had the heart of a boy—
Made Him birds in a moment merry,
Bade them soar and sing for His joy.