Around our pillows golden ladders rise,
And up and down the skies,
With winged sandals shod,
The angels come, and go, the Messengers of God!
~ Richard Henry Stoddard
May the music of nature sing to you
softly in the whispering of the wind ...
sweetly in the melodies of the songbird ...
peacefully in the rustling of the leaves ... and,
lovingly in ways that touch your heart.
In the country it seems as if every tree said to me "Holy! Holy!"
Who can give complete expression to the ecstasy of the woods!
O, the sweet stillness of the woods!
softly in the whispering of the wind ...
sweetly in the melodies of the songbird ...
peacefully in the rustling of the leaves ... and,
lovingly in ways that touch your heart.
In the country it seems as if every tree said to me "Holy! Holy!"
Who can give complete expression to the ecstasy of the woods!
O, the sweet stillness of the woods!