The clear blue sky is full of thee,
      The woods so dark and lone;
    The soft south-wind, the sounding sea,
      Worship the Holy One.

    The humming of the insect throng,
      The prattling, sparkling rill,
    The birds, with their melodious song,
      Repeat thy praises still.

    And thou dost hear them every one,—­
      Father, thou hearest me;
    I know that I am not alone,
      When I but think of thee.

HYMN.

    It was my Heavenly Father’s love
      Brought every being forth;
    He made the shining worlds above,
      And every thing on earth.

    Each lovely flower, the smallest fly,
      The sea, the waterfall,
    The bright green fields, the clear blue sky,—­
      ’Tis God that made them all.

    He gave me all my friends, and taught
      My heart to love them well,
    And he bestowed the power of thought,
      And speech my thoughts to tell.

    My father and my mother dear,—­
      He is their father too;
    He bids me all their precepts hear,
      And all they teach me, do.

    God sees and hears me all the day,
      And ’mid the darkest night;
    He views me when I disobey,
      And when I act aright.

    He guards me with a parent’s care,
      When I am all alone;
    My hymn of praise, my humble prayer,
      He hears them every one.

    God hears what I am saying now,—­
      O, what a wondrous thought! 
    My Heavenly Father, teach me how
      To love thee as I ought.

ON PRAYER.

    As through the pathless fields of air
      Wandered forth the timid dove,
    So the heart, in humble prayer,
      Essays to reach the throne of love.

    Like her it may return unblest,
      Like her again may soar,
    And still return and find no rest,
      No peaceful, happy shore.

    But now once more she spreads her wings,
      And takes a bolder flight,
    And see! the olive-branch she brings,
      To bless her master’s sight.

    And thus the heart renews its strength,
      Though spent and tempest-driven,
    And higher soars, and brings at length
      A pledge of peace with Heaven.

“The spirit giveth life.”

    What was in the viewless wind,
      Wild rushing through the oak,
    Seemed to my listening, dreaming mind
      As though a spirit spoke?

    What is it to the murmuring stream
      Doth give so sweet a song,
    That on its tide my thoughts do seem
      To pour themselves along?

    What is it on the dizzy height,
      What in each glowing star,
    That speaks of things beyond the sight,
      And questions what they are?