O Nature ! by impassion'd hearts alone 

 Thy genuine charms are felt; the vulgar mind 



Sees but the shadow of a power unknown : 

 Thy loftier beauties beam not to the blind 



And sensual throng, to grovelling hopes resign'd : 

 But they who high and lofty thoughts inspire, 



Adore thee, in celestial glory shrined, 



In that diviner fane, where Love's pure fire 



Burns bright, and Genius tunes his loud immortal lyre. 



Pbinole. 



If thou art worn and hard beset 



With sorrows that thou wouldst forget, 



If thou wouldst read a lesson that will keep 



Tby heart from fainting and thy soul from sleep, 



Go to the woods and hills ! No tears 



Dim the sweet look that Nature wears. 



Longfellow. 



The leaf-tongues of the forest, 



The flower-lips of the sod, 

 The happy birds that hymn 



Their rapture in the ear of God. 

 The summer wind that bringeth 



Music over land and sea, 

 Have each a voice that singeth 



This sweet song of songs to me. — 

 " The world is full of beauty, 



Like other worlds above, 

 And if we do our duty, 



It might be full of love." 



Massey. 



