HENRY VAUGHAN
And now as fresh and cheerful as the light
Thy little heart in early hymns doth sing
Unto that Providence, whose unseen arm
Curbed them, and clothed thee well and warm. All things that be praise Him, and had Their lesson taught them when first made.
So hills and valleys into singing break;
And though poor stones have neither speech nor tongue,
While active winds and streams both run and speak,
Yet stones are deep in admiration.
Thus praise and prayer here beneath the sun Make lesser mornings, when the great are done.
��Man
Weighing the steadfastness and state
Of some mean things which here below reside, Where birds like watchful clocks the noiseless date
And intercourse of times divide, Where bees at night get home and hive, and flowers
Early as well as late, Rise with the sun and set in the same bowers,
I would, said I, my God would give
The staidness of these things to man^ for these To His divine appointments ever cleave,
And no new business breaks their peace; The birds nor sow nor reap, yet sup and dine,
The flowers without clothes live, Yet Solomon was never drest so fine.
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