The world is
full of lovely things.
Dew on a pansy's face,
The silver threads that
shimmer so,
Where spiders spin their
lace.
The world is full of lovely
things.
The echo of a song
A Robin sang, the wind in
trees,
A winding road along.
The world is full of lovely
things.
Always the sky is blue
But all of these would disappear,
Love,
Were it not for you.
Walden,
N. Dakota 1929 Garrold E. Strong
