Little by little and one by one, Out of the ether, were worlds crea… Star and planet and sea and sun, All in the nebulous Nothing waite… Till the Nameless One Who has ma…

To sin by silence, when we should… Makes cowards out of men. The hum… Has climbed on protest. Had no vo… Against injustice, ignorance and l… The Inquisition yet would serve t…

Be careful what rubbish you toss i… On outgoing billows it drifts from… But back on the incoming waves it… And land at your threshold again b… Be careful what rubbish you toss i…

Seeking for happiness we must go s… The road leads not down avenues of… But often gently winds through by… Whose hidden pleasures are serene… Seeking for happiness we must take…

England, father and mother in one, Look on your stalwart son. Sturdy and strong, with the valour… Where is another so lusty? Coated and mailed, with the armour…

Is it the world, or my eyes, that… I see not the grace that I used t… In the meadow-brook whose song was… In the boughs of the willow tree. The brook runs slower—its song see…

Sitting alone by the window, Watching the moonlit street, Bending my head to listen To the well-known sound of your fe… I have been wondering, darling,

God, what a joy it is to plant a t… And from the sallow earth to watch… Lifting its emerald branches to th… In silent adoration; and to see Its strength and glory waxing with…

The Radiant Ruler of Mystic Regi… Where souls of artists are fitted… Gathered together their lovely leg… And fashioned a woman to shine on… They bathed her in splendor

In Nature’s bright blossoms not a… That strange subtle essence more r… Which lies in the hearts of carnat… That unexplained something by men… Though modest the flower, yet grea…

Now what were the words of Jesus, And what would He pause and say, If we were to meet in home or stre… The Lord of the world to-day? Oh, I think He would pause and sa…

‘He that hath an ear, let him hear… St. John the Divine. The Spirit says unto the churches… ‘Ere ever the churches began I lived in the centre of Being–

GOOD-BYE to the cradle, the dea… The rude hand of Progress has thr… No more to its motion o’er sleep’s… Our play-weary wayfarers peacefull… No more by the rhythm of slow-movi…

All the world was wearying, All the world was sad; Everything was shadow-filled; Things were going bad. Then a rumour stirred all hearts

The first flower of the spring is… Or bright, as one the ripe midsumm… The first faint note the forest wa… Is not as rich with feeling, or so… As when, full master of his art, t…