The purple flushing of the eastern sky;
The stately progress of the sun toward even;
Night’s mantle dropping from the quiet heaven;
The holy hush which brings God’s presence nigh;
The dusky woods where cooling shadows lie,
Where birds are still and Nature to repose
Sinks gently down; dews falling on the rose;
Mountains sublime in distance looming high;
The smile of friends when love surpasses speech;
The hand-clasp, given when sorrow is too deep
For words. Ah me, the silence of life
Are mightier far, and higher lessons teach
Than all its noisy clamor! Let us reap
The bliss of those who keep themselves from strife.
--FREDERICK E. SNOW, _The Outlook_.
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