"In earth and ocean, sky and air, All that is excellent and fair, Seen, felt, or understood, From one eternal cause descends, To one eternal center tends, With GOD begins, continues, ends, The source and stream of good. "I worship not the Sun at noon, The wandering Stars, the changing Moon, The Wind, the Flood, the Flame; I will not bow the votive knee To Wisdom, Virtue, Liberty; 'There _is_ no GOD but GOD,' for me: Jehovah is his name. "Him through all nature I explore, Him in his creatures I adore, Around, beneath, above; But clearest in the human mind, His bright resemblance when I find, Grandeur with purity combined, I must admire and love." I can not resist transcribing one more specimen. It is one in which the quaint but adoring spirit of Quarll, Withers, or Herrick, seems to speak; nor shall I ever forget the thrilling tone in which I have heard it repeated by a sainted friend, in whom the love of her Savior was the very life-blood of her heart, and who resembled him in his beneficent walk on earth as much, perhaps, as it is possible for mortal to do. THE STRANGER AND HIS FRIEND. "Ye have done it unto me."--_Matt._, xxv. 40. "A poor wayfaring man of grief Hath often crossed me on my way, Who sued so humbly for relief, That I could never answer, 'Nay:' I had not power to ask his name, Whither he went, or whence he came; Yet there was something in his eye That won my love, I knew not why. "Once when my scanty meal was spread, He entered;--not a word he spake;-- Just perishing for want of bread, I gave him all; he blessed it, brake, And ate,--but gave me part again: Mine was an angel's portion then, For while I fed with eager haste, That crust was manna to my taste. "I spied him where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength was gone; The heedless waters mocked his thirst, He heard it, saw it hurrying on. I ran to raise the sufferer up; Thrice from the stream he drained my cup, Dipped, and returned it running o'er; I drank, and never thirsted more. "'Twas night; the floods were out; it blew A winter hurricane aloof; I heard his voice abroad, and flew To bid him welcome to my roof; I warmed, I clothed, I cheered my guest, Laid him on my own couch to rest; Then made the hearth my bed, and seemed In Eden's garden while I dreamed. "Stripped, wounded, beaten, nigh to death, I found him by the highway side; I raised his pulse, brought back his breath, Revived his spirit, and supplied Wine, oil, refreshment; he was healed: I had myself a wound concealed; But from that hour forgot the smart, And peace bound up my broken heart.