We have colored windows in our church;
They cause a varied hue.
When sunbeams try to sneak in side,
They first must pass them through.
So when that sunlight hits the floor,
No longer is it yellow,
But blues, and purples, reds and greens
In varied tones, and mellow.
So, too, God's touch must penetrate
The shades you've just installed.
Do all His hues of happiness
Become diluted, and appalled
By all the blues of moodiness,
The reds of angry pique,
By yellow tinge of jealousy?
God's blessings seem quite meek.
He'd like a straight, uncluttered path
To meet us face to face;
Perhaps we ought to spend more time
In His private Holy Place.
