GRASSES are Nature's care. With these God clothes the earth, with these He sustains its inhabitants. Cattle feed on their leaves, birds upon their smaller seeds, men upon the larger. They thrive under a treatment by which other plants are destroyed; the more their leaves are consumed, the more their roots increase; the more they are trampled upon, the thicker they grow.

PALEY.

THE Lord of all, Himself through all diffused,
Sustains, and is the life of all that lives;

Nature is but a name for an effect,

Whose cause is God.

COWPER.

MEADOW FOX-TAIL GRASS.

SOFT tints of sweet May morn, when day's bright

god

Looks smiling from behind delicious mists,

Throwing his slant rays on the glistening grass, Where 'gainst the rich deep green, the cowslip hangs

His elegant bells of purest gold; the pale
Sweet-perfumed Primrose lifts its face to heaven,
Like the full artless gaze of infancy;

The little ray-crown'd daisy peeps beneath,
When the tall neighbour grass, heavy with dew,
Bows down its head beneath the freshening breeze;
Where oft in long dark lines the waving trees
Throw their soft shadows on the sunny fields,
recalling with a sigh,

*

Dim recollected feelings of the days

Of youth and early love.

ATHERSTONE.

THE noblest employment of the mind of man, is the study of the works of his Creator:- To him whom the science of nature delighteth, every object bringeth a proof of his God; every thing that proveth it giveth cause of adoration.

DODSLEY.

THERE is religion in a flower;

Its still small voice is as the voice of conscience. Mountains, and oceans, planets, suns, and systems,

Bear not the impress of Almighty power

In characters more legible than those

Which He has written on the tiniest flower,

Whose light bell bends beneath the dew-drop's weight.

H. G. BELL.

LING, OR HEATHER.

GEM of the heath! whose modest bloom
Sheds beauty o'er the lonely moor,
Though thou dispense no rich perfume,
Nor yet with splendid tints allure,
Both valour's crest, and beauty's bower
Oft hast thou deck'd-a favorite flower.

Flower of the wild! whose purple glow
Adorns the dusky mountain's side,
Not the gay hues of Iris' bow,

Nor garden's artful varied pride,

With all its wealth of sweets, could cheer

Like thee, the hardy mountaineer.

MRS. GRANT.

THOU lovely bud of Scotia's land,
Thou pretty fragrant burnie gem,
By whispering breezes thou art fann'd,
And greenest leaves entwine thy stem.

LUCRETIA DAVIDSON.

(Written in her 14th year.)

WHILE We study the works of Nature, the God of Nature will manifest himself to us; since, to a well-tutored mind, "the heavens," without a miracle, " declare his glory, and the firmament showeth his handy-work."

BISHOP HORNE,

PLACE me 'mid far-stretching woodless wilds, Where no sweet song is heard; the heath-bell there

Would soothe my weary sight, and tell of thee ¡ There would my gratefully uplifted eye

Survey the heavenly vault, by day, by night, When glows the firmament from pole to pole; There would my overflowing heart exclaim,

'The heavens declare the glory of the Lord, The firmament shows forth his handy work."

GRAHAM.