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PREPARATION FOR DIVINE SERVICE
My mind’s a temple.
Come, sweep it clean.
Out with you, low thoughts,
Little thoughts and mean!
What’s the oblation
Offer’d up to-day?
“Joy—in the glory of
A rosy leaf-spray!
“Crisp air, with rain-drops
Wash’d clear and bright:
Hosts of happy sunbeams,
Deluges of light:
“Ripe leaves translucent
Hung against the blue:
Painted air and sunlight
Palpitating thro’.”
46
