Earth has nothing sweet or fair,
Lovely forms or beauties rare,
But before my eyes they bring
Christ, of beauty Source and Spring.

2 When the morning paints the skies,
When the golden sunbeams rise,
Then my Savior's form I find
Brightly imaged on my mind.

3 When the day-beams pierce the night,
Oft I think on Jesus' light, --
Think, -- how bright that light will be,
Shining through eternity.

4 When, as moonlight softly steals,
Heaven its thousand eyes reveals,
Then I think; -- who made their light
Is a thousand times more bright.

5 When I see, in spring-tide gay,
Fields their varied tints display,
Wakes the thrilling thought in me,
What must their Creator be?

6 Lord of all that's fair to see!
Come, reveal thyself to me;
Let me, 'mid thy radiant light,
See thine unveiled glories bright.

Ger. Johann Scheffler, 1657.
Tr. Frances Elizabeth Cox, 1841.