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162 
LITE NOT TO YOURSELF. 
the far verge of heaven, and ask the bright spar¬ 
kler what it is doing there. Its voice comes down 
the path of life, and cries, “ I am a mighty 
world. I was stationed here at the creation. I 
was among the morning stars that sang together, 
and among the sons of God that shouted for joy 
at the creation of the earth. Ay, ay — I was 
there 
‘ When the radiant morn of creation broke, 
And the world in the smile of God awoke, 
And the empty realms of darkness and death 
Were moved through their depths by his mighty breath, 
And the orbs of beauty and spheres of flame 
From the void abyss by myriads came. 
In the joy of youth, as they darted away 
Through the widening wastes of space to play, 
Their silver voices in chorus rung, 
And this was the song the bright ones sung.’ ” 
And thus God has written upon the flower 
that sweetens the air, upon the breeze that rocks 
that flower on its stem, upon the raindrops that 
swell the mighty river, Upon the dewdrop that 
refreshes the smallest sprig of moss that rears its 
head in the desert, upon the ocean that rocks 
every swimmer in its channel, upon every pen¬ 
cilled shell that sleeps in the caverns of the deep, 
as well as upon the mighty sun which warms and 
cheers the millions of creatures that live in his 
light—upon all has he written, “ None of us liveth 
to himself.” 
And if you will read this lesson in characters 
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