Hues of purple, orange, and fire
Alight the western sky.
Every stroke of Artist brush
Boasts boldly Thy creative eye.
Prairie grasses wild and free
Bow down their slender frame,
As rushing winds assert their praise
And birds wing back refrain.
Boughs of treetops high and low
Wave in revelry;
Each petaled flower from lowly ground
Lifts high its praise to Thee.
Dull and gray the clouds give way
Breaking through the patterned lace
The glorious sunshine of Thine love,
Rejoicing glory of Thy face.
And we Thine people, frail as dust
Reflect our joy to be
Crafted within the Master’s hand,
Created for glory of Thee.