This plant shuts it leaves at night, but at the first dawn 
of day opens them. Peasants say they sing the praises 
of their Creator. 
JOY. 
Think not him joyful who doth wear 
•Ever a smile, — ’t is hut to hide 
The troubled thoughts of anxious care 
That in his inmost heart abide. 
Think not him joyful who has wealth, 
Whom fortune favors with her gold; 
It cannot buy the flush of health; — 
True joy is neither bought nor sold. 
But think him joyful, call him blest, 
Who round his path hath friends to love; 
Who has a conscience well at rest, 
And puts his trust in One above. 
Ay, he is joyful! he can brave 
The world with its besetting care; 
And when the portals of the grave 
Open to view, — he joijful there. 
John S. Adams. 
