TAKE the summer blossoms 

From the hills and fields; 

See what bounteous treasures 

Mother Nature yields.

Take them with thanksgiving

From the grassy sod, 

Always with remembrance 

That they come from God.

Take them to the children,

In the city street; 

Take them to the crowded lanes

Where the lowly meet.

Take them to the reeking haunts

Of foul, wicked men; 

They may turn some sinful heart

To the right again.

Take them to some darkened room,

Where, on humble cot, 

Some poor, lonely sufferer

Thinks herself forgot.

Take them as an offering,

From God's loving hand; 

Let them breathe their fragrance

Over all the land.

So shall many weary ones

Look up, and be glad; 

So shall many saddened ones

Be less darkly sad.

So shall many wicked ones

Get some hint of good, 

And God's June run round the world,

As he meant it should.

 E. M. B. in Myrtle.