field; whenever I see the tender floweret of the parterre, or the wild children of the spring; for it is the Lord's promise. REV. H. DUDDING. Every leaf in every nook, KEBLE. WILD FLOWERS, &c. FLORA'S SONG. WILL you not buy my flowers? Fragrant, and sweet, and fair! But they have not known the touch of care, Is not my calling sweet, To dwell amid beautiful things? J. K. HERVEY. ALL who feel an unaccountable delight in contemplating the works of Nature, possess a source of continued enjoyment within themselves, which is capable of producing a most beneficial effect upon their tempers and dispositions. We hail that joy which is felt in the pursuit of such occupations, as a sacred gift, which may be compared to the rain from heaven, sent for increasing the temporal welfare both of the just and of the unjust; but which the former only know how thoroughly to appreciate, and apply to the highest and best advantages. REV. PROFESSOR HENSLOW. THE gentle flowers, POLLOCK. FORGET-ME-NOT. THIS is affection's tribute, friendship's offering, ANON. WHEN "earth to earth," and "dust to dust," The loved, lamented, we entrust; What flower may grace the spot, Where sleep the relics of the dead, Like thine-which from the grave's cold bed, Repeats, Forget-me-Not? BARTON. THAT blue and bright-eye'd flow'ret of the brook, Hope's gentle gem, the sweet Forget-me-Not! COLERIDGE 7 To religious minds, and only to religious minds, there is a supernatural pleasure in natural objects. They rest the glory of their discoveries on the testimonies they bear to the universality of the great First Cause, and to the final purposes of a vast spiritual design and control. We invite the humble adorer of his Creator, as He manifests himself in the mighty workmanship of the material universe, to contemplate with us, that part of it which He displays before us, in the varieties of vegetable life, in illustration of His providence, power, and goodness. THE SCRIPTURE GARDEN Walk. THE sun and stars on high, The flowers that plant the field, And all the artless birds that fly, Divine instructions yield. REV. J. NEWTON. |