p. 198 | UNHEEDED PSALMS by Mary Bowles

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · March 25, 1880

FromThe Review and Herald, Vol. 55, No. 13

UNHEEDED PSALMS.

By Mary Bowles

God hath his solitudes, unspeopled yet, Save by the peaceful life of bird and flower, Where, since the world's foundation, he hath set The hiding of his power.

Year after year his rains make fresh and green Lone wastes of prairie, where, as daylight goes, Legions of bright-hued blossoms all unseen Their carven petals close.

Year after year unnumbered forest leaves Expand and darken to their perfect prime; Each smallest growth its destiny achieves In his appointed time.

Amid the strong recesses of the hills, Fixed by his word, immutable and calm, The murmuring river all the silence fills With its unheeded psalm.

From deep to deep the floods lift up their voice, Because his hand hath measured them of old; The far out-goings of the morn rejoice His wonders to unfold.

The smallest cloudlet wrecked in distant storms, That wanders homeless through the summer skies, Is reckoned in his purposes, and forms One of his argosies.

Where the perpetual mountains patient wait, Girded with purity, before his throne, Keeping from age to age, inviolate Their everlasting crown;

Where the long-gathering waves of ocean break With ceaseless music o’er untrodden strands, From isles that day by day in silence wake, From earth’s remotest lands,

The anthem of his praise shall uttered be; All works created on his name shall call, And laud and bless his holy name, for he Hath pleasure in them all.

—Mary Bowles, in the Sunday Magazine.