When, wrapt in self, the soul grows dull,
And thought doth lose its power,
Open thy window, gaze abroad,
Go forth and walk an hour.

Commune with things, which God has made,
The earth, the sea, the sky;
Let every object grand and fair
Allure thy languid eye.

These shall from self the spirit free,
Restore its healthy tone;
And banish doubt and care, that cloud
The mind too much alone.

For this the earth, the sea, the sky,
In beauty were arrayed;
In flower, and shell, and star, and sun,
God's glory is displayed.

For flower and sun alike are parts
Of one majestic plan,
The smallest object he beholds
A study is for man.

That, drawn by each, the soul may leave
Its doubts and cares behind;
And, in fair Nature's boundless realm,
New health and vigor find.