Beauty is a waving tree

Beauty is a waving tree,
Beauty is a flower,
Beauty is a grassy lea
& a shady bower,
Beauty is the verdant Spring
In our hearts awakening.

Beauty is a summer sun
Warming all the land,
Whose full bounty doth o’errun
More than our demand;
Spreadeth Beauty her kind feast
Lavishly for man & beast.

Autumn’s quiet hast thou too,
Beauty, who canst feed
Every craving, known or new
Of the spirit’s need,
Laying up a lasting store
Of ripe bliss for evermore.

O true Beauty, though joy’s vain
Seasons come & go,
Thou a refuge dost remain
From all wintry woe,
Thou art still the perfect clime
Where no transience is nor time.

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