When I behold the glory of the sunset
   And see the stars alight throughout the sky,
I see the moon in all its radiant splendor -
   The trees, the hills, and mountain peaks so high;
As I look out upon the ocean's grandeur
   And feel the spray upon my wond'ring face,
I wonder how a man could keep from trusting
   This God Who made all this by wondrous grace.

I see the shells along the ocean's coastline,
   Each tiny shape formed by God's loving hand,
In colors soft, or white as fallen snowflakes,
   Each made the way the great God's will had planned.
And then I bow in humbleness and worship
   This One Whose hand created all I see;
My heart is awed, my lips would sing forever,
   "Great God! to think You made all this for me!"

Beneath my feet I find the tiniest blossom -
   Each petal formed, its fragrance fills the air;
I hear the birds fill all the world with love-songs,
   And see tall palms with fronds raised up in prayer,
My poor heart cries, "Oh, God, how can You love me,
   So full of sin and selfishness and pride!
So far away from what Your will planned for me!  
   Lord, draw me near Thy precious, bleeding side!"

     -  Willa Mae Whitney