thee 'mang the dewy weet
Wi' spreckled breast,
When upward springing, blithe to greet
The purpling east. --Page 8.

He prayeth well, who loveth well
Both man and bird and beast.
He prayeth best, who loveth best
All things both great and small. --Page 57.

The rank is but the guinea's stamp,
The man's the gowd for a' that! --Page 149.

By fairy hands their knell is rung,
By forms unseen their dirge is sung. --Page 151.

Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget--lest we forget! --Page 164.

The remarkably adult yet innocent expression of their open and serene
eyes is very memorable. All intelligence seems reflected in them. They
suggest not merely the purity of infancy, but a wisdom clarified by
experience. Such an eye was not born when the bird was, but is coeval
with the sky it reflects. The woods do not yield such another gem.
--Page 263.

Sound of vernal showers
On the twinkling grass,
Rain-awakened flowers,
All that ever was
Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass. --Page 278.

Imagine a stream seventy yards broad divided by a pebbly island, running
over seductive riffles and swirling into deep, quiet pools where the
good salmon goes to smoke his pipe after his meals. --Page 287.

I once had a sparrow alight on my shoulder for a moment while I was
hoeing in a village garden, and I felt that I was more distinguished by
that circumstance than I should have been by any epaulet I could have
worn. --Page 299.

And while in life's late afternoon
Where cool and long the shadows grow,
I walk to meet the night that soon
Shall shape and darkness overflow,
I cannot feel that thou art far,
Since near at hand the angels are;
And when the sunset gates unbar,
Shall I not see thee waiting stand,
And, white against the evening star,
The welcome of thy beckoning hand? --Page 389.

He who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
W