When beauty blooms in art’s transcendent frame,
In lines of stone or threads of silken hue,
A society that bears the Savior’s name
Reflects His grace in all it seeks to do.
The arch that soars to kiss the heavens high,
The poet’s verse that stirs the soul to sing,
The melody where mortal voices cry—
These gifts of glory to our Christ we bring.
For beauty, pure, is more than eye’s delight,
A mirror of the Maker’s boundless heart,
A sign of souls aligned with holy light,
Where faith and craft refuse to dwell apart.
Through marble halls and music’s sacred sound,
We honor Him where beauty’s depths are found,
In woven cloth or words of tender care,
His truth shines forth, exquisite, rich, and rare.
So let us build with hands that seek His will,
Create with hearts that heaven’s breath instills,
That every work, from spire to whispered phrase,
Exalts His name through all our sacred days.