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THE THOUGHT OF GOD.
The thought of God is like the tree Beneath whose shade I lie,
And watch the fleets of snowy clouds Sail o'er the silent sky.
'T is like that soft, invading light, Which in all darkness shines,
The thread that through life's sombre In golden pattern twines.
It is a thought which ever makes Life's sweetest smiles from tears,
And is a daybreak to our hopes, A sunset to our fears.
One while it bids the tears to flow, Then wipes them from the eyes,
Most often fills our souls with joy, And always sanctifies.
Within a thought so great, our souls
Little and modest grow, And, by its vastness awed, we learn
The art of walking slow.
The wild flower on the mossy ground Scarce bends its pliant form,
When overhead the autumnal wood Is thundering like a storm.
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