The glorious sky, embracing all,
Is like the Father's love;
Wherewith encompassed, great and small
In peace and order move.
The dew of heaven is like His grace;
It steals in silence down;
But where it lights, the favored place
By richest fruits is known.
Two worlds are ours; 't is only sin
Forbids us to descry
The mystic heaven and earth within,
Plain as the earth and sky.
Thou, who hast given me eyes to see
And love this sight so fair,
Give me a heart to find out Thee,
And read Thee everywhere!
IN holy books we read how God hath spoken
To holy men in many different ways;
But hath the present worked no sign nor token?
Is God quite silent in these latter days?
The word were but a blank, a hollow sound,
If He that spake it were not speaking still,
If all the light and all the shade around
Were aught but issues of Almighty Will.
So then, believe that every bird that sings,
And every flower that stars the elastic sod,
And every thought the happy summer brings,
To the pure spirit is a word of God.
THE VOICE OF GOD IN NATURE.
IN each breeze that wanders free,
In each flower that gems the sod,
Living souls may hear and see
Freshly uttered words from God.
Had we but a searching mind
Seeking good where'er it springs,
We should then true wisdom find
Hidden in familiar things.
God is present and doth shine
Through each scene beneath the sky,
Kindling with a light divine
Every form that meets the eye.
If the mind would Nature see
Let her cherish Virtue more;
Goodness bears the golden key
That unlocks her temple door.
" THE VOICE OF GOD IN THE GARDEN.'
HATH not thy heart within thee burned
At evening's calm and holy hour,
As if its inmost depths discerned
The presence of a loftier power?
Hast Thou not heard 'mid forest glades,
While ancient rivers murmured by,
A voice from forth the eternal shades,
That spake a present Deity?
It was the voice of God that spake
In silence to Thy silent heart;
And bade each worthier thought awake,
And every dream of earth depart.
Voice of our God, O, yet be near!
In low, sweet accents, whisper peace;
Direct us on our pathway here,
Then bid in heaven our wanderings cease!
WHEN up to nightly skies we gaze,
Where stars pursue their endless ways,
We think we see, from earth's low clod,
The wide and shining home of God.
But could we rise to moon or sun,
Or path where planets duly run,
Still heaven would spread above us far,
And earth, remote, would seem a star.
This earth, with all its dust and tears,
Is His, no less than yonder spheres ;
And rain-drops weak, and grains of sand,
Are stamped by His immediate hand.
But more than this, Thou God benign,
Whose rays on us unclouded shine;
Thy breath sustains yon fiery dome,
But man is most Thy favored home.
We view those halls of painted air,
And own Thy presence makes them fair;
But dearer still to Thee, O Lord!
Is he whose thoughts with Thine accord.
'GOD, THROUGH ALL AND IN YOU ALL.'
GOD of the earth, the sky, the sea!
Maker of all above, below!
Creation lives and moves in Thee,
Thy present life through all doth flow.
Thee in the lonely woods we meet,
On the bare hills or cultured plains,
In every flower beneath our feet,
And even the still rock's mossy stains.
Thy love is in the sunshine's glow,
Thy life is in the quickening air;
When lightnings flash and storm-winds blow,
There is Thy power; Thy law is there.
We feel Thy calm at evening's hour,
Thy grandeur in the march of night;
And, when the morning breaks in power,
We hear Thy word, Let there be light!
But higher far, and far more clear,
Thee in man's spirit we behold;
Thine image and Thyself are there,-
The Indwelling God, proclaimed of old.
III. GOD IN THE HUMAN SOUL.
O, WHAT is man, great Maker of mankind!
That Thou to him such great respect dost bear,
That Thou adorn'st him with so bright a mind,
Mak'st him a king, and even an angel's peer!
O, what a lively life, what heavenly power,
What spreading virtue, what a sparkling fire!
How great, how plentiful, how rich a dower
Dost Thou within this dying flesh inspire!
Thou leav'st Thy print in other works of Thine,
But Thy whole image Thou in man hast writ;
There cannot be a creature more divine,
Except, like Thee, he should be infinite.
Nor hast Thou given these blessings for a day,
Nor made them on the body's life depend:
The soul, though made in time, survives for aye;
And though it hath beginning, sees no end.
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