Yes, dewdrops, leaves and buds, and all,-- The smallest, like the greatest things,-- The sea's vast space, the earth's wide ball, Alike proclaim Thee, King of kings! But man alone, to bounteous Heaven, Thanksgiving's conscious strains can raise: To favored man, alone, 'tis given, To join the angelic choir in praise. "THOU, GOD, SEEST ME." Thine eye is on me always, Thou knowest the way I take; Thou seest me when I'm sleeping, Thou seest me when I wake. Thine arm is round about me, Thy hand is underneath; Thy love will still preserve me, If I Thy laws do keep. Thou art my present helper,-- Be Thou my daily guide; Then I'll be safe for ever, Whatever may betide. Oh! help me, dearest Father, To walk in wisdom's way, That I, Thy loving child, may be Through every future day, And, by my loving actions, prove That He who guardeth me is Love. THE BEAUTIFUL WORKS OF GOD. All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small, All things wise and wonderful,-- The Lord God made them all. Each little flower that opens, Each little bird that sings, He made their glowing colors, He made their shining wings. The tall trees in the green wood, The meadows where we play, The rushes, by the water, We gather every day,-- He gave us eyes to see them, And lips, that we may tell How great is God Almighty, Who doeth all things well. SPIRITUAL BLESSINGS. Almighty Father! Thou hast many blessings In store for every loving child of Thine; For this I pray,--Let me, Thy grace possessing, Seek to be guided by Thy will divine. Not for earth's treasures,--for her joys the dearest,-- Would I my supplications raise to Thee; Not for the hopes that to my heart are nearest, But only that I give that heart to Thee. I pray that Thou wouldst guide and guard me ever; Cleanse, by Thy power, from every stain of sin; I will Thy blessing ask on each endeavor, And thus Thy promised peace my soul shall win. THE DOVE'S VISIT. I knew a little, sickly child, The long, long summer's day, When all the world was green and bright, Alone in bed to lay; There used to come a little dove Before his window small, And sing to him with her sweet voice, Out of the fir-tree tall. And when the sick child better grew, And he could creep along, Close to that window he would come, And listen to her song. He was so gentle in his speech, And quiet at his play, He would not, for the world, have made, That sweet bird fly away. There is a Holy Dove that sings To every listening child,-- That whispers to his little heart A song more sweet and mild. It is the Spirit of our God That speaks to him within; That leads him on to all things good, And holds him back from sin.