PEBBLES AND SHELLS
GOD'S MIRACLES
Why talk of wondrous miracles of yore,
When June comes whisp'ring at thy lattice door,—
Are not the springing grass and op'ning flowers
God's miracles through all the summer hours?
Why talk of wondrous miracles of yore,
When June comes whisp'ring at thy lattice door,—
Are not the springing grass and op'ning flowers
God's miracles through all the summer hours?
GREAT AND SMALL
The grain of dust that dances in the sun
Obeys that law that guides the heavenly spheres,
And all the stellar bodies, one by one,
Go swinging round, obedient to the years.
The grain of dust that dances in the sun
Obeys that law that guides the heavenly spheres,
And all the stellar bodies, one by one,
Go swinging round, obedient to the years.
ENVIRONMENT
A wondrous shell was thrown up from the deep,
Where it had lain long centuries asleep—
But, in a day, the sunlight and the dew
Had cracked and stained this shell of wondrous hue.
A wondrous shell was thrown up from the deep,
Where it had lain long centuries asleep—
But, in a day, the sunlight and the dew
Had cracked and stained this shell of wondrous hue.
MY AVIARY
My aviary is the deep green wood,—
I would not cage its songsters if I could.
Sweeter the song of one wild bird to me
Than all the notes of sad captivity.
My aviary is the deep green wood,—
I would not cage its songsters if I could.
Sweeter the song of one wild bird to me
Than all the notes of sad captivity.
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