Never a cry of love went forth from human heart but it found some heavenly chord to fold it in.

Be sure thy friend inhabits a day not out of harmony with this morning of earthly spring, with this sunlight, those rain-drops, that sweet wind that flows so softly over his grave." It was the first sprouting of a _germon_.

He covered it up and left it: he had something else to talk to his people about this morning.
While he sat thus in the pulpit, his wife was praying for him ere she rose.

She had not learned to love him in the vestibule of society, that court of the Gentiles, but in the chamber of torture and the clouded adytum of her own spiritual temple.

For there a dark vapor had hid the deity enthroned, until the words of His servant melted the gloom.