broken by the force of logical and scientific 

 education. 



I have arrived once more at the time of year 

 when I began to pen these Mosaics. Vegetation 

 is now quiescent and we must await the glories of 

 new life in the spring. I will end the contempla- 

 tions into which I have been led with a hymn 

 which has haunted me with its beautiful con- 

 ceptions for many years past and which returns 

 to my thoughts with renewed force, as time goes 

 on, again and again. It was given to me by an 

 old friend who knew it by heart and told me it 

 was composed by Horace Smith, entitled: 



HYMN TO THE FLOWERS 



Day stars! that ope your frownless eyes to twinkle 



From rainbow galaxies of earth's creation, 

 And dewdrops on her lonely altars sprinkle 

 As a libation. 



Ye matin worshipers! who bending lowly 



Before the uprisen sun God's lidless eye 

 Throw from your chalices a sweet and holy 

 Incense on high. 



2l6 



