They form a highly appropriate and acceptable contribution to
this volume.
I HEARD THY VOICE IN THE GARDEN.
That voice yet speaketh, heed it well--
But not in tones of wrath it chideth,
The moss rose, and the lily smell
Of God--in them his voice abideth.
There is a blessing on the spot
The poor man decks--the sun delighteth
To smile upon each homely plot,
And why? The voice of God inviteth.
God knows that he is worshipped there,
The chaliced cowslip's graceful bending
Is mute devotion, and the air
Is sweet with incense of her lending.
The primrose, aye the children's pet,
Pale bride, yet proud of its uprooting,
The crocus, snowdrop, violet
And sweet-briar with its soft leaves shooting.
There nestles each--a Preacher each--
(Oh heart of man! be slow to harden)
Each cottage flower in sooth doth teach
God walketh with us in the garden.
I am surprized that in this city (of Calcutta) where so many kinds of
experiments in education have been proposed, the directors of public
instruction have never thought of attaching tasteful Gardens to the
Government Colleges--especially where Botany is in the regular course of
Collegiate studies. The Company's Botanic Garden being on the other side
of the river and at an inconvenient distance from the city cannot be
much resorted to by any one whose time is precious.
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