246 CONCLUSION. 



Wherever we turn our eyes, we behold wonders ; " if we go up to 

 heaven, God is there;" "the firmament showeth forth his handy- 

 work;" if we contemplate the earth on which we are placed, with its 

 varied tribes of beings, and the provision made for their comfort and 

 subsistence, we realize, that it is indeed God, "who maketh the grass 

 to grow on the mountains, and herbs for the use of man." 



The universe, how vast! exceeding far 



The bounds of human thought ; millions of suns, 



With their attendant worlds moving around 



Some common centre, gravitation strange ! 



Beyond the power of finite minds to scan ! 



Can He, who in the highest heav'n sublime, 



Enthron'd in glory, guides these mighty orbs — 



Can He behold this little spot of earth. 



Lost midst the grandeur of the heav'nly host : 



Can God bestow one thought on fall'n man ? 



Turn, child of ignorance and narrow views, 

 Thy wilder'd sight from off these dazzUng scenes ; 

 Turn to thy earth, and trace the wonders there. 

 Who pencils, with variegated hues. 

 The lowly flower that decks the rippling stream, 

 Or gorgeously attires the lily race ? 

 Who with attentive cai'e, each year provides 

 A germ to renovate the fading plant 

 And gives soft show'rs and vivifying warmth. 

 Kindling within the embryo inert 

 The little spark of hfe, unseen by all, 

 Save him who gave it, and whose care preserved ? 

 Who teaches, when this principle of life, 

 Thus animated, swells the germ within. 

 And bursts its tomb, rising to li^ht and air— 

 Who teaches root and stem to find their place. 

 Each one to seek its proper element? 



Who gilds the insect's wings, and leads it forto 

 To feast on sweets and bask in sunny ray"? 

 None can the life of plant or insect give. 

 Save God alone ; — He rules and "Watches all ; 

 Scorns not the least of all His works ; much less 

 Man, made in his image, destin'd to exist 

 When e'en yon briUiant worlds shall cease to be. 

 Then how should man, rejoicing in his God 

 Dehght in his perfections, shadow'd forth 

 In every little flow'r and blade of grass! 

 Each opening bud, and care-perfected seed, 

 Is as a page, where we may read of God. 



