night. They are floating barges,--gondolas richly decked with crimson
and gold, and burning with jewels of light. A coolness seems to come
in the air, an exhilaration in your feeling. Energy, enterprise, are
inspired with the dawn. When the sun is really up in the heavens, you
feel an expansion of spirits, and great light is within you. You, too,
will make a path through the day, as the sun makes his path through
the heavens. By and by you will be able to say with the bardic
philosopher, "I see the spectacle of morning from the hill-top over
against my house from daybreak to sunrise, with emotions which an angel
might share ... I seem to partake its rapid transformations. The active
enchantment reaches my dust, and I dilate and conspire with the morning
wind ... Give me health and a day, and I will make the pomp of emperors
ridiculous." And, at length, you will rise above the earthly, and
exclaim with the psalmist, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; and be ye
lift up, ye everlasting doors; and the King of glory shall come in."

Observe the humblest flower that grows, and first you may notice only
its color, or form, or fragrance. Look again, and some added beauty
appears. Observe more closely, handle it, and you are made a little
thoughtful, because, all unconsciously to yourself, it may be, the
flower is doing something to your mind and heart and soul. Perhaps
its velvety softness and its lowliness speak to you of humility and
gentleness; or perhaps its fragrance breathes sweetness into your life
and feeling,--only a little, to be sure, but that little means
something. The spirit of the flower speaks to your spirit; and you
wonder what relation it bears to you, and if you are not both connected
with the spirit of God.

There is something more than sentiment in attributing character to
flowers, something better than fancy in saying, "Pansies for thoughts."