And with your own improve the scene
And sanctify our walk:
So that with Nature's melody
Our hearts may be in tune,
And send up incense like the flowers
This pleasant day in June!




AN EVENING MEDITATION.


How softly yonder pale star beams above my head to-night! How
beautiful it appears in the azure vault of heaven where twilight holds
the connecting link between day and night. Oh, if my soul were freed
from its clayey fetters how swiftly it would fly (if such a journey
were possible) to the boundaries of that sweet star! Can that fair
planet, seemingly so pure and spotless, be inhabited by beings as
frail and erring as ourselves? Can there be any sad souls there to-
night--
any who are weeping over blighted hopes and blasted prospects?
It may be so; and yet perchance such a thing as a pang of sorrow and a
burning tear are unknown, for it may be _sin_ has never entered there.
Vain, useless conjectures! But will the veil which hides the scenes of
other worlds from our eyes never be withdrawn? ... Surely it is
because God is merciful that I have been spared through another day. I
cannot forbear wondering that I have been spared so long,--that I have
not been cut down as a cumberer of the ground. O God, according to thy
loving-kindness preserve me. Grant that I may yet be an humble