From the Akathist of thanksgiving:
Every flower is fragrant through the power of the Holy Spirit, in a delicate flow of aroma and tenderness of color; the beauty of the Great contained in what is small. Praise and honor to God Who gives life, Who spreads forth the meadows like a flowering carpet, Who crowns the fields with golden ears of wheat and azure basilisks, and the soul with the joy of contemplation. Let us rejoice and sing to Him: Alleluia!
How beautiful You are in the triumphant festival of spring, when all creatures come to life again and in a thousand ways joyfully call out to You; You are the source of life; You are the victor over death.
To the song of the nightingale, the valleys and forests stand in snow white bridal array by the light of the season. All the earth is Your bride, waiting for the immortal bridegroom. If You clothe even the grass is such splendid way, how will You transfigure us in the future age of resurrection, how will our bodies be made light and our souls be made luminous:
Glory to You, who brought out of the earth's darkness diversity of color, taste, and fragrance.
Glory to You, for the warmth and caress of all nature.
Glory to You, for surrounding us with thousands of Your creatures.
Glory to You, for the depth of Your wisdom reflected in the whole world.
Glory to You, I kiss reverently the footprint of Your invisible tread.
Glory to You, Who kindled before us the bright light of eternal life.
Glory to You, for the hope of immortal, ideal, incorruptible beauty.
Glory to You, O God, unto ages of ages!