I saw God wash the world last night
With His sweet showers on high;
And then when morning came
I saw him hang it out to dry.

He washed each slender blade of grass
And every trembling tree;
He flung his showers against the hills
And swept the rolling sea.

The white rose is a deeper white;
The red, a richer red
Since God washed every fragrant face
And put them all to bed.

There's not a bird, there's not a bee
That wings along the way,
But is a cleaner bird and bee
Than it was yesterday.

I saw God wash the world last night;
Ah, would He had washed me
As clean of all my dust and dirt
As that old white birch tree!

IN THE HEART OF A CHILD

In the breast of a bulb is the promise of spring;
In a little blue egg there's a bird that will sing;
In the soul of a seed is the hope of the sod;
In the heart of a child is the Kingdom of God.


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