Canst Thou Prophesy, Thou Little Tree, What

Sometimes It Seems To Me That God 's Way Of Dealing With Me Is Not To Let Me See Much Of My Friends, Those Who Are Most To Me In The Spiritual Life, Lest I Should Forget That The Invisible Bond Is The Only Reality. That Is The Only Way I Can Reconcile Myself To The Inevitable Separations Of Life And Death.

Thou Hastenest Down Between The Hills To Meet Me At The Road, The Secret Scarcely Lisping Of Thy Beautiful Abode Among The Pines And Mosses Of Yonder Shadowy Height, Where Thou Dost Sparkle Into Song, And Fill The Woods With Light.

Every Phase Of Our Life Belongs To Us. The Moon Does Not, Except In Appearance, Lose Her First Thin, Luminous Curve, Nor Her Silvery Crescent, In Rounding To Her Full. The Woman Is Still Both Child And Girl, In The Completeness Of Womanly Character.

No One Can Feel More Gratefully The Charm Of Noble Scenery, Or The Refreshment Of Escape Into The Unspoiled Solitudes Of Nature, Than The Laborer At Some Close In-door Employment.

I Defied The Machinery To Make Me Its Slave. Its Incessant Discords Could Not Drown The Music Of My Thoughts If I Would Let Them Fly High Enough.