All finite things reveal infinitude: The mountain withi its singular bright shade Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow, read more

All finite things reveal infinitude: The mountain withi its singular bright shade Like the blue shine on freshly frozen snow, The after-light upon ice-burdened pines; Odor of basswood upon a mountain slope, A scene beloved of bees; Silence of water above a sunken tree: The pure serene of memory of one man,-- A ripple widening from a single stone Winding around the waters of the world.

Nature never says one thing and wisdom another.

Nature never says one thing and wisdom another.

Break open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms.

Break open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms.

Nature, like man, sometimes weeps from gladness.

Nature, like man, sometimes weeps from gladness.

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if read more

I love to think of nature as an unlimited broadcasting station, through which God speaks to us every hour, if we only will tune in.

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with read more

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.

Each is like a river that leaves behind its name and shape, the whole course of its path, to vanish read more

Each is like a river that leaves behind its name and shape, the whole course of its path, to vanish into the vast sea of God.

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand.

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand.

At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
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At the close of the day, when the hamlet is still
And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove,
When nought but the torrent is heard on the hill
And nought but the nightingale's song in the grove.