My spirit with the sound seems soaring.

The rosy morn, the sunset sky,
The glitt'ring retinue on high,
The sun's broad blaze, the moon's mild beams,
Reflected from the lakes and streams,
The lightning's flash, the thunder's roar,
The ocean dashing on the shore,
And meteors streaming through the air,
Proclaim that God is everywhere.




THOUGHTS

SUGGESTED BY VIEWING A PETUNIA.

Fair plant, well pleased on thee I look,
Thou art a page in nature's book,
Which I delight to read;
Though stoics set thee quite at naught,
And say that none but children ought
On such vain trifles spend a thought,
Their words I little heed.

A child I'd ever wish to be,
With an instructer just like thee,
And listen to her voice;
Fain wouldst thou our best passions move,