Full-orbed the moon
Rode slowly up the east; while, one by one,
Spirits of night lighted the lamps of heaven.
"This is to be alone!"—I whispered low,
For nature's solemn beauty had a spell
To awe my soul to silence.
"What, alone?"—
Murmured the mountain wind, as round my brow
It waved its rustling pinions. "What, alone?"—
Low voices questioned from the sighing pines,—
"Alone?"—the stars repeated to my soul—
"In the Eternal's presence, canst thou stand,
While, from above, His awful glories look,—
While all, around, beneath thee, and within,
Attest His presence, and thus idly deem
Thou art alone? No; thou art not alone,
For God is here!"
* * * *
It was a summer noon.
The soft, south wind made music 'mid the boughs
Of the cool forest, whence glad bursts, of song
Floated unceasing. On a mossy bank
Starred with pale flowers, I laid me down to rest,
Yet not to slumber. Tenderly, the sky
Glanced like a loving spirit through the leaves;
And, ever and anon, like fleecy gold,
The yellow sunbeams dropped amid the gloom
Startling the shadows. Twas a hallowed scene!
Each waving leaf seemed Instinct with glad life,
And every sound was richly freighted with
The wealth of harmony.
"Is this to be alone?"
I inly questioned, yet my secret soul
Needed from Nature no responsive voice;
For my whole being, with a thrill of joy.
Replied;—"In all the universe of God,
There is no solitude!"
O soul of mine,
Joy in thy wealth of being!—in the power
To grasp the Infinite where'er thou turn'st;—
To see Him, feel Him near, yet most of all,
Him to adore and love;—to hear His voice
In every breeze, in every gentle chime
Of the sweet waters, in the song of birds,
The hum of insects, and all deeper tones
Of Nature's wondrous music;—yet, far more,
To recognize His Spirit's gentle voice
Unto thy spirit, whisp'ring tenderly—
"I am thy Father, thy Redeemer, thine
Amid the devious paths that checker earth,
And thine in Heaven!"
THE STRAY LAMB.
A GRANDMOTHER'S STORY.
We had finished our pitiful morsel,
And both sat in silence a while;
At length we looked up at each other.
And I said, with the ghost of a smile,—
"Only two little potatoes
And a very small crust of bread—
And then?"—"God will care for us, Lucy!"
John, quietly answering, said.
"Yes, God will provide for us, Lucy!"
He said, after musing a while—
I'd been quietly watching his features
With a feeble attempt at a smile—
"For, 'trust in the Lord, and do good,'
Our Father in Heaven has said,
'So shalt thou dwell in the land,
And verily thou shalt be fed!'"