Of All The Fire Mountains Which Like

A Few Minutes Ago Every Tree Was Excited, Bowing To The Roaring Storm, Waving, Swirling, Tossing Their Branches In Glorious Enthusiasm Like Worship. But Though To The Outer Ear These Trees Are Now Silent, Their Songs Never Cease. Every Hidden Cell Is Throbbing With Music And Life, Every Fiber Thrilling Like Harp Strings, While Incense Is Ever Flowing From The Balsam Bells And Leaves. No Wonder The Hills And Groves Were God's First Temples, And The More They Are Cut Down And Hewn Into Cathedrals And Churches, The Farther Off And Dimmer Seems The Lord Himself.

While Cares Will Drop Off Like Autumn Leaves.

In The Woods Is Perpetual Youth.

Tug On Anything In Nature And You Will Find It Connected To Everything Else.

As Long As I Live, I'll Hear Waterfalls And Birds And Winds Sing.