The gray sexton looks up and down the street , and then at my window-curtain , where , through the small peephole , I half fancy that he has caught my eye . Now , every loiterer has gone in , and the street lies asleep in the quiet sun , while a feeling of loneliness comes over me , and brings also an uneasy sense of neglected privileges and duties . O , I ought to have gone to church ! The hustle of the rising congregation reaches my ears . They are standing up to pray . Could I bring my heart into unison with those who are praying in yonder church , and lift it heavenward , with a fervor of supplication , but no distinct request , would not that be the safest kind of prayer ? `` Lord , look down upon me in mercy ! '' With that sentiment gushing from my soul , might I not leave all the rest to Him ? Hark ! the hymn . This , at least , is a portion of the service which I can enjoy better than if I sat within the walls , where the full choir and the massive melody of the organ , would fall with a weight upon me . At this distance , it thrills through my frame , and plays upon my heartstrings , with a pleasure both of the sense and spirit . Heaven be praised , I know nothing of music , as a science ; and the most elaborate harmonies , if they please me , please as simply as a nurse 's lullaby . The strain has ceased , but prolongs itself in my mind , with fanciful echoes , till I start from my revery , and find that the sermon has commenced . It is my misfortune seldom to fructify , in a regular way , by any but printed sermons . The first strong idea , which the preacher utters , gives birth to a train of thought , and leads me onward , step by step , quite out of hearing of the good man 's voice , unless he be indeed a son of thunder . At my open window , catching now and then a sentence of the `` parson 's saw , '' I am as well situated as at the foot of the pulpit stairs . The broken and scattered fragments of this one discourse will be the texts of many sermons , preached by those colleague pastors , -- colleagues , but often disputants , -- my Mind and Heart . The former pretends to be a scholar , and perplexes me with doctrinal points ; the latter takes me on the score of feeling ; and both , like several other preachers , spend their strength to very little purpose . I , their sole auditor , can not always understand them .
Suppose XXXXX a few hours have passed , and behold me still behind my curtain , just before the close of the afternoon service .
At as in like on that through till upon with