Grand Haven Daily Tribune  May 16, 1902

Beauty.
—
BY DAVID FLETCHER HUNTON
—
The world is full of beauty―
“Tis seen in every place:
It sparkles in the sunlight,
And wreathes the moon’s pale face:
It glistens in the dew drop,
And in the frosty air;
[missing line]
[missing words] …colors bright and fair.

I feel it in the glory
Of sunset’s azure hue;
And in the scenes resplendent,
Then flashing into view:
It gleams in golden tresses
Across the lake’s broad breast,
And flames in gorgeous glory
Along the crimson west.

I see it in the fading
Of all that sapphire hue,
And in the deeper shading
That glimmered into blue:
I see it in the shadows,
Like specters tall and gray,
Which gather in the gleaming
Around the dying day.

It flashes in the lightning.
And glows in rosy dawn,
It gilds the throne of midnight,
And smiles upon the lawn:
‘Tis seen in Spring’s sweet presence,
When with reviving power,
She calls, and re-awakens
The soul of every flower!

‘Tis seen in gladsome Summer,
When all the skies are bright;
And lovely flowers are basking
In waves of golden light!
‘Tis seen in growing farm crops,
And Autumn’s rustling leaves;
‘Tis seen in golden harvests,
And in its gathered sheaves!

It’s kiss is on the apple—
It’s blush is on the peach;
It paints the grape and cherry,
In tints beyond our reach!
It’s gold is on the cowslip,
It’s crimson on the rose;
It’s azure on the violet,
The humblest flower that grows!

I see it in the glory
Of Winter’s white array!
And in the fleecy brightness
Which robes the earth today!
I see it in the snowflakes,
Now falling at my side;
And in the great snow desert,
That stretches far and wide!

‘Tis in the lake’s commotion,
When summer breezes sigh:
And in its angry bosom,
When waves run mountain high!
‘Tis on the storm wrought concave,
That occupies the night;
And in the starry splendor
Shining in borrowed light!

I see it in the hoar-frost,
High on the mountain’s crest,
And in the pearly treasures,
With which the trees are dressed!
‘Tis in the sparkling jewels,
On vines and shrubbery lain;
And in those dainty pictures,
Traced on the window pane!

What grander scenes of beauty,
Will we in heavens behold,
When there in Adam’s splendors,
We walk the streets of gold?
What more resplendent glories
Will dawn upon our eyes?
What lovelier, sweeter flowers
Will bloom in Paradise?