O God be­yond the ev­en­ing hills
That stretch on to­ward the sky,
Thou paint­est out the lakes and rills
With pur­est paint and dye.
Thou writ­est out Thy won­drous love
As flow’rs un­fold at morn,
And fold the clouds in bliss above
When close the flow­er­ing thorn.

O Ar­tist, paint each day anew
A mas­ter­piece of love,
So broad, so bright with morn­ing dew,
And set with peace above.
Moreo’er, paint all our hearts aglow
With Thy re­splen­dent joy,
So that the whole world sure­ly knows
Thy peace none can de­stroy.