I lingered at a thousand fountains to catch the life-giving spray and studied, as far as I possibly could, the faces of these favored creatures.
The whole vegetable world is a long extended floral garden. Where formerly deserts lay waste and wild, now the blooming roses and expansive lawns can be seen. Is it possible to picture to your mind's eye a line of lofty mountains whose sides are dressed in living colors and trimmed with rare flowers? If you cannot paint this picture, then you, must not endeavor to form the faintest conception of the natural features of this Millennial world.
Being still filled with the lingering memories of this happy sphere, and looking forward to the coming golden age of our own world, I read with pleasure a few stanzas contemplating Christ's second coming.
"A SONG OF HIS COMING."
See the virgins at midnight yearning,
To behold the face of the Groom.
Their lamps are all trimmed and burning.
As they peer through the misty gloom,
