To S. C.

HOW beautiful, how beautifulIs every scene to-day!How beautiful are all His worksIn this fair month of May!While blossoms blush on hill and plain,And song-birds sing their sweet refrain,I'd on thine altar lay

A gift. O, may it bear a charm,A cure for every ill!Thy Saviour poured the precious balmWhich these pure leaves distill;Twill satisfy thy longing heart,A holy influence impart,And all desires fulfill.