By James Dillet Freeman
Though God, God only, can create,
I till and weed, and then I wait,
And in the thicket of my thought
Bloom flowers that I never wrought.
I stand in wonder and behold
Beauty I never sowed unfold,
Visions of faith, insights of love,
Truths that I had no forethought of.
Somehow there is in me yet more
Than I myself might settle for,
A faith that brings perfection out
Past my own powers. I have no doubt
One day all unexpectedly
The rose of Christ shall bloom in me.