There is religion in everything around us
A calm and holy religion
In the unbreathing things in Nature
It is a meek and blessed influence
Stealing in as it were unaware upon the heart
It comes quickly, and without excitement,
It has no terror, no gloom.
It does not rouse up the passions,
It is untrammeled by creeds
It is written on the arched sky,
It kooks out from every star,
It is on the sailing cloud, and in the invisible wind
It is among the hills and valleys of the earth
Where the shrubless mountain-top pierces the thin atmosphere
of eternal winter
Or where the mighty forest fluctuates before the strong wind
With its dark waves of green foliage.
It is spread out like a legible language upon
the broad face of an unsleeping ocean.
It is the poetry of nature
It is that which uplifts the spirit within…
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