Alfred Tennyson.
O Thou, Who hast gemmed the heavens with round, revolving worlds, the earth with beauty and the coronet of our minds with royal faculties, we do not know what "the little flower is, root and all, and all in all" and yet, dear Lord, through the clear and the convincing revelation of Thy dear Son; through the divine image which Thou hast implanted within us; through the mighty and the persuasive witness from experience, we do feel and believe that Thou art the great creator, preserver and benefactor; That Thou hast called us to do a noble, a specific work; that we ought not to neglect the gift that is in us; to this end wilt Thou help us to be pure, brave, faithful and strong, that we may fight the good fight, and win the crown of righteousness. Amen.
August 18
O ye, so far above me on the Height,
I cannot hear your voices as ye stand
Facing the vast, invisible to me.
But I can see your gestures of delight,
And something guess of that wide, glorious sea,
The glimmering isles of that enchanted land,
The winds which from that ocean freshly blow.
And so your Vision lifts me toward the Height,
Although ye have forgot me far below.
But you, my brother, you, my near of kin,
Who some few steps above me on the steep
Look smiling back to cheer me ever on,
Who lend a hand as I the chasm leap,
And stay your haste that I the crag may win,
Thinking it scorn for Strength to climb alone;
You with your morning song when sings the lark,
You, with unflagging purpose at high noon,
And quiet-hearted trust when comes the dark,—
To you I owe it that I climb at all.
Mary Frances Wright.
Spirit of the Infinite Life! We praise Thee that our visions of the Divinest rise far beyond the borders of our known and familiar fields, that the resources of our unwearied life are in those mysterious regions that we have not explored. And yet we rejoice that the shadows of these holy visions fall across our common ways, reporting thus from the Infinite and the unknown the possibilities of greater fortunes yet to be. In this life of Thee may we dwell, seeing Thee in the life about us and evermore seeking to lead the life toward those high places that are always waiting the coming of those who aspire toward Thee. Amen.
August 19
The flowers got into a debate one morning as to which of them was the flower of God: and the rose said: "I am the flower of God, for I am the fairest and the most perfect in beauty and variety of form and delicacy of fragrance of all the flowers." And the crocus said: "No, you are not the flower of God. Why, I was blooming long before you bloomed. I am the primitive flower; I am the first one." And the lily of the valley said modestly: "I am small, but I am white; perhaps I am the flower of God." And the trailing arbutus said: "Before any of you came forth I was blooming under the leaves and under the snow. Am I not the flower of God?" And all the flowers cried out: "No, you are no flower at all; you are a come-outer." And then God's wind, blowing on the garden, brought this message to them: "Little flowers, do you not know that every flower that answers God's spring call, and comes out of the cold, dark earth, and lifts its head above the sod and blooms forth, catching the sunlight from God and flinging it back to men, taking the sweet south wind from God and giving it back to others in sweet and blessed fragrance—do you not know they are all God's flowers?"