The Home Circle | AdventAI

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Dec 16, 1880

The Home Circle.

LIVE NOT TO YOURSELF.

O DELICATE bud! on a fragile stem, O rose! in whose heart gleams a crystal gem. O sweet valley-lily! as fragrant as fair— Say, why do you hang all tremulous there? "We sweeten the air with our fragrant breath; We wreathe the pale brows, so lovely in death; In the delicate folds of satiny sheen, On the breast of the blushing bride we're seen,— To gladden and brighten this world of ours Is the glorious mission of beautiful flowers."

O ancient tree! by the dusty road, So far remote from human abode; Not a shrub or flower 'neath thy shade hath grown; Oh, say! dost thou live to thyself alone? "A shelter I give, from the sun and storm, To the springing step and the tottering form; I've held in my arms a hundred nests; A thousand birds have slept in my breast; The herds and flocks rejoice in my shade, The insect a home in my trunk has made,— To shelter whatever may come to me Is the blessed work of the aged tree."

O sparkling rill! down the mountain side, Seeking, coyly, in mossy chasm to hide; Or in a mimic cascade to fall— What mission is thine, with thy powers so small? "I'm leaving the mountain with eager haste, The valley below by drouth is laid waste; Tired cattle are waiting to cool their feet, And quench their thirst in my waters sweet; The miller awaits me with auxious thought; Though small, don't infer that I live for naught."

O twinkling star! in the vaulted blue, Bright sparkler! hast thou a work to do? Thy rays float down from the heavens afar— Pray, what is thy mission, beautiful star? "In the distant blue I keep my place, A mighty world, secure in space, And though to you I seem but a spark, Unseen in the sunshine, but brilliant at dark, I'm a peopled planet—have mountains and trees, Broad rivers and lakes, and oceans and seas. While the sailor looks up to my twinkling light, And guides his good ship, quite fearless at night."

Thus God hath written on flower and tree, On gurgling rill, and grassy lea, On everything his hand hath done— "None liveth to himself alone."