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I saw God in the shining of the stars,
I saw him in the flowering of the fields.


I thought I left my Father's loving care
To wander for awhile 'mid wild alarms,
But lo! it was a dream I woke and found
Myself at rest within His shelt'ring arms.


O God, so far and yet so near, our vagrant thoughts and fainting hearts turn to Thee as flowers to the sun.

As the scant rivers out of their gravel beds lift their eyes unto the hills, call to the misty, moist mountains “all my springs are in thee,” so we turn to Thee. Thou dost beset us behind and before, and over our frailties lay Thy shielding, sheltering hand. When we are most alone in the darkness we hear the rustle of unseen wings, we feel the pressure of an unseen presence, and the dark is touched with gray, the gray flushes into rose, the rose flashes into flame, the day breaketh, the shadows of the night are chased away. We do not find the morning, the morning in its mercy findeth I said it in the meadow path,



I said it on the mountain stairs The best things any mortal hath

Are those which every mortal shares. .

Into your heavenly loneliness,

Ye welcome me, O solemn peaks; And we, as every quest, you bless,

Who reverently your mystery seek.

Rich by my

brethren's poverty
Such wealth were hideous! I am blest
Only in what they share with me,
In what I share with all the rest.


Lord Jesus Christ, help us, we beseech Thee, to see in our fellow-creatures, the reflex of Thine own love and wisdom, and to acknowledge them in spirit and in truth as our brethren. Help us to realize that we come nearer to Thee by seeking evidences of good in others. Strengthen us to the end that we may banish from our thoughts the frailties of those who surround us, and may welcome every manifestation of the innate nobility which Thou hast vested in Believe in the trees if you cannot quite believe in yourselves, and note their happy lesson. The blossoms in themselves are good. They mean ten times more than they do; but what beauty and fragrance still abides in their meaning! How it floats over the homes of men as a delicate aroma nothing can slay except the ugly enormity of our overcrowded tenements! So we can thank God for the blossoming in our nature of beautiful and good intentions, which will be sure to fail, as we are taught to think of failing, and for the good fruit, which will be sure to ripen from some of them if we do the best we may.


all men.


O Thou Infinite Spirit of the Universe, may we see Thee in every blade of grass, every tree, every blossom. Most of all may we feel Thee in ourselves. May we so think, so speak, so live as conscious of Thy presence, nearer to us than our own thoughts. May our lives have somewhat about them as beautiful as the flowers, as strong in the right way as the great trees, as aspiring as the mountain peaks. May


and on after the Ideal; may we look in and listen for the music of the spheres in our very souls. So shall we realize in our own natures somewhat of the divine life. Amen.


we look

A sower sowed his seed, with doubts and fears;
I dare not hope,he said, for fruitful ears;
Poor hath the harvest been in other years.
Yet ere the August moon had waxed old,
Fair stood his fields, a waving sea of gold;

He reaped a thousandfold!

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Little I have to give, O Lord,one cried,

A wayward heart that oft hath Thee denied;
Couldst Thou with such a gift be satisfied ?
Yet when the soul had ceased its mournful plaint,
God took the love that seemed so poor and faint
And from it made a saint!


Beloved Father, the dawn grows brighter, and suddenly from the east, the glorious sun brings us Thy benediction. Our prayer follows it as it goes around the world. Its beams cross the mighty ocean, and light up other worlds where uncounted millions need and receive Thy blessing and Thy care. Help us to-day to meet with faith our own unsolved problems, our trials, our

unanswered questions. We thank Thee for our glorious hopes and triumphs as the new day filled with blessing begins. Amen.


The farmer planted a seed
A little, dry, black seed;

And off he went to other work;

For the farmer was never known to shirk,
And cared for what had need.

The night came, with its dew,
The cool and silent dew;

The dawn came, and the day,

And the farmer worked away
At labors not a few.

Home from his work one day,
One glowing summer day,

His children showed him a perfect fower;

It had burst in bloom that very hour,
How, I cannot say.

But I know if the smallest seed
In the soil of love be cast,

Both day and night will do their part;

And the sower who works with a trusting heart Will find the flower at last.

Mary F. BUTTS.

O Lord God, from Thy hand cometh seed time and harvest, the warmth of sunny days and the balm of cooling showers. Even so cometh the harvest of good to the plantings of love and human service. Help us, we pray Thee, to be faithful workers in Thy vineyard. In the morning, may we sow our seed and in the evening withhold not our hands. Knowing that from Thee is the harvest and they shall reap who faint not. Amen.


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