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gives the most consoling tone ; the conflict of exclu- 

 sive and intolerant opinions are there unfelt and 

 unheard^ but we hold converse with nature^ and 

 from her flowery lap raise our eyes and hearts in 

 adoration to Him^ who, 



'Not content with every food of life 



To nourish man 3 by kind illusions 



Of the wondering sense, hath made all nature 



Beauty to his eye and music to his ear.' 



How cooling to the chafed brow and the care- 

 worn spirit is the copse-wood shade and the rural 

 walk? What memories of happy days and well- 

 beloved companions crowd upon the garden's con- 

 templative hour, bringing back to age its golden 

 morn, its blithesome boyhood : if a father or a mother 

 hath departed from us, the haunts they loved, the 

 flowers they nursed, the paths they trod, summon us 

 back to all we owe them, and all we have lost in 

 them : 



'Soft as the memory of buried love, 



Pure as the prayer that childhood wafts above,' 



come back to us from these interviews with nature, 

 our best days and our most cherished aflfections. 



The stars have been called the poetry of heaven, 

 but may we not with equal truth turn to these 

 flowers as the poetry of earth, speaking as they do 

 to us of peace and good will among men. 



Rank, power, and wealth, the arm of the w^arrior, 

 and the tongue of the sage, have seldom blessed 

 their possessors ; and we are called too often to de- 

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