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Fruit shall be gathered, whose abundant store Shall never perish;
But blissful love, where weeping shall be o'er, For ever cherish.
Then scatter freely, nor withhold thy hand
Earth is the place of toil-the better land
"The treasure proudly did I show
WORDSWORTH-(A Wren's Nest.)
SMALL is the flower of the field,
And small the bee that bends the flower;
And he who scorns such little things,
Methinks, indeed, that such an one
The lark that in the morning air
What form too the resplendent dyes
Meadows, and streams, woods, hills, and skies?-
And when the earth is sere and sad
Yea, and the robe that nature weaves, Whence does it every robe surpass?— From little flowers, and little leaves, And little blades of grass.
O sure, who scorneth little things,
THE REWARD OF THE MEEK.
"Blessed are the meek; for they shall inherit the earth." MATT. V. 5.
THIS earth is but a desert wild,
By pilgrims trod of various mood ; Yet even here the meek and mild
In secret eat of angels' food.
And sprinkled o'er the arid waste
Are Palm trees shadowing fountains sweet,
Whose waters they may freely taste,
And rest the while their weary feet.