100 INTEODUCTION TO CONCHOLOGY. 



Send back, 'mid solitude profound. 

 Praised be the Lord ! 



" Just heaven ! has man so thankless grown. 

 He brings no anthems to Thy throne. 

 When voiceless things have found a tone 

 To praise the Lord. 



" Ah, no ! for see the shepherds come, 

 Though hardly heard the welcome home 

 From toil of day — they quickly come. 

 To worship God. 



" The cares that made their hearts to bow. 

 And childhood's laugh, and sunny brow. 

 All, all by them forgotten now. 

 In praise to God, 



" How lovely such a scene must be. 

 When prayer and praise ascend to Thee, 

 In one glad voice of melody. 

 Eternal Lord ! 



'' All space Thy temple, and the air 

 A viewless messenger to bear 

 Creation's universal prayer, 



On wings to heaven ! 



" Oh ! that for me some Alpine horn, 

 Both closing eve and wakening mora; 



