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A LOVER'S ADMIRATION.
I see her now. How more than beautiful
clear As the heart fills them. There, thuso parted lips,Prayer could but give such voiceless eloquence, Shining like snow her clasped and earnest hands She seems a dedicated whose heart Is God's own altar. By her side I feel As in some holy place. My best love, mine, Blessings must fall on one like thee !
THE groves were God's first temples. Ere man
learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the roof above them,-ere he framed The lofty vault, to gather and roll back The sound of anthems, in the darkling wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down And offered to the Mightiest, solemn thanks And supplication. For his simple heart Might not resist the sacred influences, That, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks, that, high in heaven, Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed: His spirit with the thought of boundless Power And inaccessible Majesty. Ah, why
Should we, in the world's riper years, neglect
Father, thy hand
Whose birth was in their tops, grew old and died