The Beautiful Things

Where do beautiful things go?
The daisy droops, to the ground falls
The lilies begin to grow
When the ground thaws
But the wintery wind blows
And their life ends.

Where do these beautiful things hide
When from our sight they go
When the fragile beauty has died
Where does it rest?

We see beautiful people lay down
And never return to life.
Their bodies are put in the ground
And we see them no more.
Where do they rest their head now?
Where do their souls hide
When these beautiful people have died?

Where do the beautiful thoughts fall
When they have come to an end?
When they have penetrated the minds of all,
When we their voices an ear have lent
And to the deaf they call?

The flower hides in the ground and after
To bud anew comes forth.
We see with great joy and laughter
As their delicate heads crown the earth
And beauty fills the earth once more.

The soul resides in the safe arms of the Maker
Until he is raised once more.
 And we realize quite long after
That death is but the opening of a door
To all that is most precious, beautiful and sweet
When we see the face of our Lord.

The idea makes its way from our heads and settles
Close in our affectionate hearts.
A good idea the mind gnaws, the heart nettles
Until we own the idea on our part
As not an idea but a belief.

These places are where the beautiful things lie
When from our sight they go.
The beauty does not truly die
When they are finally brought to rest.