Bloom forth, sweet flower, thou needst never fear
The roar of belching steel that rends the air.
God bids thee speak in language wise and clear
The tender message of His loving care.
By nature's silent baths thou comest from on high
To greet War's chaos with thy beauty's grace,
And bring to earth-lost man's awakening eye
A gleam of light from the dear Father's face.
-- Carl Wachter.
