WILD FLOWERS. 15 
Where, thrilling with its earliest sense of Thee, 
Amidst the low religious.whisperings, 
And shivery leaf sounds of the solitude, 
The spirit wakes to worship, arid is made 
Thy living temple. By the breath of flowers, 
Thou cailest us from city throngs and cares, 
Back to the woods, the birds, the mountain streams, 
That sing of Thee!—back to free childhood’s heart, 
Fresh with the dews of tenderness!—'Thou bidd’st 
The lilies of the field witff placid smile 
Reprove man’s feverish heart-strings, and infuse 
Through his worn soul a more unworldly life, 
With their soft holy breath. Thou hast not left 
His purer nature, with its fine desires, 
Uncared for in this universe of Thine!— 
The glowing rose attests it, the beloved 
Of poet hearts.—touched by their fervent dreams 
With spiritual light, and made a source 
Of heaven-ascending thoughts. E’en to faint age 
Thou lend’st the vernal bliss:—The old man’s eye 
Falls on the kindling blossoms; and his soul 
Remembers youth and love, and hopefully 
Turns unto Thee, who call’st earth’s buried germs 
