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Article A MORNING MEDITATION. Page 1 of 1
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A Morning Meditation.
A MORNING MEDITATION .
BY CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY * . IN the bud of a rose , on a bright summer morn , A young insect I mark'd , in that sweet cradle born ; Two wings had it , green—brightly speckled with gold , And two , like thin fairy gauze , under them roll'd . Not the atoms of diamond strew'd o ' er the dark mine ,
Could vie with its tiny eyes , clear as sunshine . O ' er its head a young rainbow a veil of light threw ; To its little jet feet clung the clear crystal dew . I paused on the spot where the summer beams fell On that insect , and rose in the sweet blooming dell , And I mentally said , " if there were not a world
Through the starry-gem'd depths of infinity hurl'd ; Were there nothing in space save that insect and flower , Lit up by a sunbeam , and I hadthe power To gaze on their beauty , as now on the clod , 'Twould convince me at once of a Maker and God ; And I 'd turn from them both , with a heart full of love , To adore , and to worship the Maker above . "
But oh , when I gaze on this beautiful earth , AVhere millions of insects and roses have birth ; AVhen I see the proud sun hold his bright arched way , Old Time ' s golden index to mark the warm day ; Allien I watch him , at evening , tint o ' er the fair skies , Or the moon through the fret-work of starry mght rise ,
And the mountains and vallies , the rivers and seas . And the fields of wild flowers , ancl fruit-loaded trees ; When I gaze upon life of all beauty and form , Hear the voice of the thunder , the whirlwind and storm , See worlds upon worlds over gloomy space roll'd , More countless than sands or than numbers e ' er told ;
Great God of my fathers , ancl father to me ! Is there room in my soul for one thought but of thee ? No : let the wide word be as bleak as it ivill , I'll love thee , adore thee , and worship thee still ; And read from an insect , and flower of the sod , The presence , the wisdom , and love of a God !
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Morning Meditation.
A MORNING MEDITATION .
BY CHARLES DOYNE SILLERY * . IN the bud of a rose , on a bright summer morn , A young insect I mark'd , in that sweet cradle born ; Two wings had it , green—brightly speckled with gold , And two , like thin fairy gauze , under them roll'd . Not the atoms of diamond strew'd o ' er the dark mine ,
Could vie with its tiny eyes , clear as sunshine . O ' er its head a young rainbow a veil of light threw ; To its little jet feet clung the clear crystal dew . I paused on the spot where the summer beams fell On that insect , and rose in the sweet blooming dell , And I mentally said , " if there were not a world
Through the starry-gem'd depths of infinity hurl'd ; Were there nothing in space save that insect and flower , Lit up by a sunbeam , and I hadthe power To gaze on their beauty , as now on the clod , 'Twould convince me at once of a Maker and God ; And I 'd turn from them both , with a heart full of love , To adore , and to worship the Maker above . "
But oh , when I gaze on this beautiful earth , AVhere millions of insects and roses have birth ; AVhen I see the proud sun hold his bright arched way , Old Time ' s golden index to mark the warm day ; Allien I watch him , at evening , tint o ' er the fair skies , Or the moon through the fret-work of starry mght rise ,
And the mountains and vallies , the rivers and seas . And the fields of wild flowers , ancl fruit-loaded trees ; When I gaze upon life of all beauty and form , Hear the voice of the thunder , the whirlwind and storm , See worlds upon worlds over gloomy space roll'd , More countless than sands or than numbers e ' er told ;
Great God of my fathers , ancl father to me ! Is there room in my soul for one thought but of thee ? No : let the wide word be as bleak as it ivill , I'll love thee , adore thee , and worship thee still ; And read from an insect , and flower of the sod , The presence , the wisdom , and love of a God !