Canadian Wild Flowers

ng looks dark. 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me?' 'How long wilt thou forget me, O Lord? forever? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me?' 'Mine iniquities are gone over my head: as a heavy burden they are too heavy for me. Lord, all my desire is before thee; and my groaning is not hid from thee. Make haste to help me.' 'My soul fainteth for thy salvation, but I hope in thy word.' O my God, hear my cry, and answer my petition."

"Tuesday, June 29, 1852. The sultry fires of the day have yielded to the cool breezes of evening. A misty cloud hangs over the once azure sky, and the deep, heavy roar of thunder shakes the quiet air. Nearer and nearer still it rolls its deep-toned voice, and all nature seems to reply. The vivid lightnings flash. The fountains on high are opened, and the rain pours down in torrents. Wilder grows the storm: the winds are released from their 'prison-cave,' and armed with fury they rush madly forth; brighter the lightni