Page:Life in a thousand worlds.djvu/274

 beauty, all painted and frescoed by thy own exquisite touches.

"O mysterious soil! Wrapped in thy bosom lie a thousand secrets which, if I could but read, I might interpret and thus learn anew of my Creator. Thou holdest the ashes of the millions slain, and the dust of all our forefathers.

"O silent soil! How thou workest without the flying shuttle, or the hum of the busy bees. Thou doest thy greatest deeds without the sounding of a trumpet. Silently thy atoms take their places to serve in higher forms. O teach me thy mute language that I may live and sacrifice for others without my crying and my sighing.

"O humble soil! Thy elements, when formed into man, or fruit, or any kind of food, return again without complaint when touched by death. May I, like thee, take all my condescension in the spirit of humility.

"O modest soil! Thou are not gaudy like the diamond, sparkling and dazzling in a brilliant show and living for nothing higher than display. But thou dost lay aside thy feathery