Beautiful faces are those that wear—
It matters none if dark or fair—
Whole-souled honesty printed there.
Beautiful eyes are those that show,
Like crystal panes where hearth fires glow,
Beautiful thoughts that burn below.
Beautiful lips are those whose words
Leap from the heart like songs of birds,
Yet whose utterances prudence girds.
Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest, brave and true,
Moment by moment the long day through.
Beautiful lives are those that bless
Silent rivers and happiness,
Whose hidden fountains few may guess.
Beautiful feet are those that go
On timely ministries to and fro—
Down lowliest ways, if God wills it so.
Beautiful shoulders are those that bear
Ceaseless burdens of homely care
With patient grace and with daily prayer.
Beautiful lives are those that bless
Silent rivers and happiness,
Whose hidden fountains but few may guess.
Beautiful twilight, at set of sun,
Beautiful goal with race well run,
Beautiful rest, with work well done.
Beautiful graves, where grasses creep,
Where brown leaves fall, where drifts lie deep
Over worn out hand—oh, beautiful sleep.
