God with His hands of wind for woof collects The forest leaves, and weaves them with the grass, With nap of richest hues the fabric decks, And spreads it out for feet of every class. A haze at times may veil the smiling sky, The sun his golden locks exchange for gray; But soon a western blast comes sweeping by-- The mists depart, and glory crowns the day. The lowing cattle roam from field to field; No more content in narrow bounds to stay; The ozone in the autumn air has healed Their every ill, and lo, the dull beasts play. This season has its lesson each should learn-- The fading leaf reminds us of our doom; But whether like the stately tree, or fern, In hope we travel onward to the tomb. We look not for the Winter, but the Spring, When we shall glow in beauty from the skies; Each now his tribute sheaf of praise should bring, Then hear his Lord's "Well done!" O glorious prize. THE FLOWERS Some flowers are brighter far in hue Than others by their side, But God baptizes all with dew, And spreads His mantle wide To cover all for half the day, From rays of scorching sun, Though some may shine in colors gay, And some in sober dun. And I account each one my friend, The stately and the plain. Diverse their hue, but not their end; For me none bloom in vain; For all proclaim their Maker's skill, And point to bloom above; In God's great plan their part fulfil, And whisper "God is _love_." The fragrance lades the summer air With health-inspiring germs, Ascend on high as nature's prayer, Suggesting well the terms Of God-accepted prayer from man, Odors of grateful praise; For though in penitence began, It ends in joyful lays. THE BUD The winter through I lay asleep, Unconscious and unseen; The howling winds disturbed me not, Nor felt the frost tho' keen. Thick blankets covered me about, And kept me dry and warm, And weeks and months passed quickly by And I received no harm. At last I felt uneasy in My cosy little cot, Tho' it was lined with softest down. The cause I knew not what. I struggled hard to free myself, But struggled all in vain; My blankets felt the strain, 'tis true, And opened to the rain, But just enough for me to see The frowning sky o'erhead; I closed my eyes, in sad affright, And wished that I was dead. But soon a change came o'er my frame, Much like electric shock; Oh, how I longed for some rare key With which I might unlock My prison door, for I now felt The breath of coming Spring, And heard, likewise, her merry laugh, Like silver bells its ring. My lips were close to blanket rent, I ceased my useless strife, And she bent over me in love, And kissed me into life. BEAUTIFUL SKY