A grandeur that augments the soul;
Heaven has no beauties it seeks to conceal,
No secrets inscribed on its scroll.

Through the earth for an age we may roam,
And through space our vision may fly,
Yet no pleasure is like that at home
When we gaze on a God-painted sky.

When we think of the forces displayed
To prepare for a cloud-scene at even,
Of the elements deftly arrayed
That a gorgeous effect may be given,

Of the mists and the winds and the light,
Of the blendings that art cannot teach,
Of the mysteries hidden from sight
That our knowledge would gladly reach,

Of the order, the purpose, design,
In the pictures that hang in the sky,
We know that the hand is divine
That arranged all their brilliancy,

Then our faith lifts the curtain that hides
The Spirit that ordered the plan,
And assures us He ever abides
To encourage and elevate man.

At sunset my spirit shall sing
Of the beauties the elements yield,
Let my heart then its off'ring bring
To the Artist of sky and of field.

When my soul from its dwelling of clay,
Shall escape to that unknown sphere,
May it be at the close of the day,
When the glories of sunset appear.

Soothingly, sweetly comes unto me
The thought that my soul may rest,
In a land whose glory shall be
Like cloud-scenes that glow in the west.

SELFISHNESS.

Who lives for self alone should be
Placed in some lonely, hollow tree,
And left to toad and bat and owl--
To creatures man considers foul--
Where he shall be perpetual prey
For frightful ogres night and day.

A narrow soul that lives for self,
Should stand on some old musty shelf,
Where spiders, rats, and vermin throng,
And listen only to the song
Of filing saw and creaky mill,
And owlet's hoot and whip-poor-will.

Who lives for self is not afraid
Of meanest thing God ever made,
For he himself is that same thing;
Though peasant, plebian, or king,
He thwarts the purpose of God's plan,
He lacks the impulse of a man.

No soul enwrapped within itself,
Or dwarfed by pride, or love of pelf,
Can serve its Maker or mankind
As nobly as was erst designed
By the Great Architect above,
Whose being is Unselfish Love.

RETROSPECTION.

I