Think you, when the air is trembling
With the birds' exultant song,
And the blossoms, mutely fragrant,
Strive the anthem to prolong--
Think you then that their Creator,
At the signal of his word,
Fills the earth with such sweet music
As shall ne'er again be heard?

He will never send a blessing
But have greater ones in store,
And each oft recurring kindness
Is an earnest of still more.
If the earth seems full of glory
As his purposes unfold,
There is still a better country--
And the half has not been told!




"MY HOUSE" AND "OUR HOUSE."


These houses are opposite each other in a beautiful suburban town. "My
house" is large and handsome, with a cupola, and has a rich lawn
before it. It is surrounded by a broad piazza, and graced and shaded
by ancestral elms and huge button-wood trees. Its barns and stables
are large and well-filled; its orchards are gorgeous with fruit, in