All Beautiful the March of Days

All beautiful the march of days,
as seasons come and go;
the hand that shaped the rose hath wrought
the crystal of the snow,
hath sent the hoary frost of heaven,
the flowing waters sealed,
and laid a silent loveliness
on hill and wood and field.

O’er white expanses sparkling pure
the radiant morns unfold;
the solemn splendours of the night
burn brightly through the cold;
life mounts in every throbbing vein,
love deepens round the hearth,
and clearer sounds the angel hymn,
good will to all on earth.

O thou from whose unfathomed law
the year in beauty flows,
thyself the vision passing by
in crystal and in rose;
day unto day doth utter speech,
and night to night proclaim
in ever-changing words of light
the wonder of thy name.