The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . circled nest;But thistles and briars are there,The hopes of the favored to crush, All ready to mangle and tear,As had they the breast of the thrush. July 3, 1871. GODS TEMPLE. Alone I stood, in reverence stood, Within a forest grand,Where elms, and ash, and cottonwood Arose on every mellow rays of Autumns sun With Natures pigments rareHad touched the oaks, where woodbines run, And limbs of walnut bare. The moaning trees the breeze revered, Reluctant was to throwThe leaves that frost had lately seared, To rustling mates happy songsters


The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . circled nest;But thistles and briars are there,The hopes of the favored to crush, All ready to mangle and tear,As had they the breast of the thrush. July 3, 1871. GODS TEMPLE. Alone I stood, in reverence stood, Within a forest grand,Where elms, and ash, and cottonwood Arose on every mellow rays of Autumns sun With Natures pigments rareHad touched the oaks, where woodbines run, And limbs of walnut bare. The moaning trees the breeze revered, Reluctant was to throwThe leaves that frost had lately seared, To rustling mates happy songsters of the grove. In flocks that daily sweet notes answered kind above. Then with them southward squirrels showed a prudent care By adding to their nuts fast dropping everywhere, Twere folly to ignore. It was not long I stood alone In that old forest wide,For He by whom the woods were sown Was standing by my felt His presence in the air, I saw Him in the leaf,And through His goodness, standing there, 42. Alone I stood, in reverence stood,Within a forest grand. I strengthened my heard Him call those birds away To where the skies were warm,I heard Him to the squirrels say Prepare for months of storm. The woods appeared a temple, vast. Whose corner-stone was laidBy God, himself, long ages past Before our race was altar was the fragrant sod. Its dome, the vault oerhead,Through which arose sweet praise to God- From choirs by robins tree grew arch or apsides. Its windows, bright in gaily colored Autumn leaves With sunlight streaming while my lips spoke not a word. My heart went up in felt the plea by Him was heard, As I stood silent there. Oh, not alone where mans proud art Has lifted lofty spire,Does God expect the human heart To reach for something , not alone where arch and nave And massive trusses bareMay echo back the vocal wave 43 Does He give heed to rock^ the sea, th


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