  The Greeks lived much in the open air, and dearly loved the trees, the flowers, the birds, the sea and sky. They watched the clouds floating in the beautiful azure dome, sometimes in long lines like soldiers, sometimes looking like great curly white feathers, and sometimes piled high like mountains of snow. They saw the sun rise, coloring the clouds and awakening all things on the earth; and they watched him sink in the western sky, flooding the heavens with brilliant hues. In the quiet night, they saw the lovely stars come, one by one at first, and then in such numbers that their eyes were dazzled, and they thought of God and of the beauty of His works. “The million-handed sculptor molds Quaintest bud and blossom folds; The million-handed painter pours Opal hues and purple dye; Azaleas flush the inland floor, And the tints of heaven reply.” They listened to the carols of the birds and they believed that the brooks, the trees, and the flowers could talk to men. “The beauty of the sea and sky, The airy flight of birds on high, The lovely flowers, whose perfume rare So softly fills the summer air; The rainbow’s glow, the shimmering rain When springtime buds peep out again, The golden glory of the sun The fields of ripening grain upon, The winds that sigh harmoniously, The tempest’s wrath o’er land and sea, The purple haze of mountains far, Or snowy crest, whereon the star Of night shines soft and silvery:— These joys that nature offers thee, Wilt thou not know; wilt thou not feel What God and thine own heart reveal?” |
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