The Spirit Of Man Can

Every Walk To The Woods Is A Religious Rite, Every Bath In The Stream Is A Saving Ordinance. Communion Service Is At All Hours, And The Bread And Wine Are From The Heart And Marrow Of Mother Earth. There Are No Heretics In Nature's Church; All Are Believers, All Are Communicants. The Beauty Of Natural Religion Is That You Have It All The Time; You Do Not Have To Seek It Afar Off In Myths And Legends, In Catacombs, In Garbled Texts, In Miracles Of Dead Saints Or Wine-bibbing Friars. It Is Of Today; It Is Now And Here; It Is Everywhere.

If The October Days Were A Cordial Like The Sub-acids Of Fruit, These Are A Tonic Like The Wine Of Iron. Drink Deep Or Be Careful How You Taste This December Vintage. The First Sip May Chill, But A Full Draught Warms And Invigorates.

In The Printed Page The Only Real Things Are The Paper And The Ink; The White Spaces Play The Same Part In Aiding The Eye To Take In The Meaning Of The Print As Do The Black Letters.

Joy In The Universe, And Keen Curiosity About It All - That Has Been My Religion.

How Beautiful The Leaves Grow Old. How Full Of Light And Color Are Their Last Days.