Of innocent flowers, and in their perfumed breath,
Expands in strength and purity, and God
Will come to it again as shall be best.
I cannot now declare how He shall come;
I only know that this poor world, so sad
And still so beautiful, cannot exhaust
The beauty in the mind of God, or yet
His artist power to mould and paint his thoughts.'
Poems. By William Tidd Matson. Groombridge and Sons.
The Inner Life: a Poem. By William Tidd Matson. Elliot Stock.