The Vermont mountains stretch extended straight;
New Hampshire mountains curl up in a coil.

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How many times it thundered before Franklin took the hint! How many apples fell on Newton's head before he took the hint! Nature is always hinting at us. It hints over and over again. And suddenly we take the hint.

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O woman-country! wooed not wed,
Loved all the more by earth's male-lands,
Laid to their hearts instead.

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I trust in Nature for the stable laws
Of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant
And Autumn garner to the end of time.
I trust in God, the right shall be the right
And other than the wrong, while he endures.
I trust in my own soul, that can perceive
The outward and the inward,—Nature's good
And God's.

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So the loud torrent and the whirlwind's roar
But bind him to his native mountains more.

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As aromatic plants bestow
No spicy fragrance while they grow;
But crush'd or trodden to the ground,
Diffuse their balmy sweets around.

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Every dewdrop and raindrop had a whole heaven within it.

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Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.

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The hooded clouds, like friars,
Tell their beads in drops of rain.

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Into each life some rain must fall,
Some days must be dark and dreary.

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