For as I passed by, and beheld your _devotions_, I found an altar with this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom therefore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you.--Acts, xvii. 23. An aged holy man, That day and night said his _devotion_, No other worldly business did apply. _Spenser._ One grain of incense with _devotion_ offer’d, ’S beyond all perfumes or Sabæan spices, By one that proudly thinks he merits it. _Massinger._ I fly Those wicked tents _devoted_, lest the wrath Impendent, raging into sudden flame, Distinguish not. _Milton._ In vain doth man the name of just expect, If he _devotion_ to his God neglect. _Denham._ Man at home, within himself, may find The Deity immense, and in that frame So fearfully, so wonderfully made, See and adore His providence and power. I see, and I adore! O God most bounteous! O Infinite of goodness and of glory! The knee that Thou hast shaped, shall bend to Thee; The tongue which Thou hast tuned, shall chant Thy praise. And Thine own image, the immortal soul, Shall consecrate herself to Thee, for ever! _Christopher Smart._ _Devotion_, when lukewarm, is un_devout_; But when it glows, its heat is struck to heaven: To human hearts her golden harps are strung; High Heaven’s orchestra chants Amen to man. _Young._ DEW. Therefore God give thee of the _dew_ of heaven, and the fatness of the earth, and plenty of corn and wine.--Genesis, xxviii. 28. My doctrine shall drop as the rain, my speech shall distil as the _dew_.--Deuteronomy, xxxii. 2. As the _dew_ of Hermon, and as the _dew_ that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.--Psalm cxxxiii. 3. O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee? O Judah, what shall I do unto thee? For your goodness is as a morning cloud, and as the early _dew_ it goeth away.--Hosea, vi. 4. See how the orient _dew_, Shed from the bosom of the morn, Into the blowing roses, Yet careless of its mansion new, For the clear region where ’twas born, Round in itself incloses: And in its little globe’s extent, Frames as it can its native element. How it the purple flower does slight! Scarce touching where it lies; But gazing back upon the skies, Shines with a mournful light, Like its own tear, Because so long divided from the sphere. Restless it rolls and insecure, Trembling lest it grow impure, Till the warm sun pities its pain, And to the skies exhales it back again.