[Sidenote: Summer rain.] There had been a patter of rain the night before, which had kept the leaves awake talking to each other till nearly morning, but by dawn the small winds had blown brisk little puffs, and had whisked the heavens clean and bright with their tiny wings, as you have seen Susan clear away the cobwebs in your mamma’s parlor; and so now there were left only a thousand blinking, burning water-drops, hanging like convex mirrors at the end of each leaf, and Miss Katy admired herself in each one. MY WIFE AND I. [Sidenote: Influence of surroundings.] The mutual acquaintance that comes to companions in this solitude and face-to-face communion with nature is deeper and more radical than can come when surrounded by the factitious circumstances of society. When the whole artificial world is withdrawn, and far out of sight, when we are surrounded with the pure and beautiful mysteries of nature, the very best and most genuine part of us comes to the surface, we know each other by the communion of our very highest faculties. RELIGIOUS POEMS. [Sidenote: Summer studies.] Why shouldst thou study in the month of June In dusky books of Greek and Hebrew lore, When the great Teacher of all glorious things Passes in hourly light before thy door? There is a brighter book unrolling now; Fair are its leaves as is the tree of heaven, All veined and dewed and gemmed with wondrous signs, To which a healing, mystic power is given. A thousand voices to its study call, From the fair hill-top, from the water-fall, Where the bird singeth, and the yellow bee, And the breeze talketh from the airy tree. Now is that glorious resurrection time When all earth’s buried beauties have new birth! Behold the yearly miracle complete,— God hath created a new heaven and earth! Hast thou no _time_ for all this wondrous show,— No thought to spare? Wilt thou forever be With thy last year’s dry flower-stalk and dead leaves, And no new shoot or blossom on thy tree? See how the pines push off their last year’s leaves, And stretch beyond them with exultant bound: The grass and flowers, with living power, o’ergrow Their last year’s remnants on the greening ground. Wilt thou, then, all thy wintry feelings keep, The old dead routine of the book-writ lore, Nor deem that God can teach, by one bright hour, What life hath never taught to thee before? Cease, cease to _think_, and be content to _be_; Swing safe at anchor in fair Nature’s bay; Reason no more, but o’er thy quiet soul Let God’s sweet teachings ripple their soft way. Call not such hours an idle waste of time,— Land that lies fallow gains a quiet power; It treasures, from the brooding of God’s wings, Strength to unfold the future tree and flower.