When the cock crows loud from the… And the moor-cock chirrs from the… What hear ye and see ye then, Ye children of air and ether? 1st Echo

I woke at midnight, and my heart, My beating heart, said this to me: Thou seest the moon, how calm and… The world is fair by day and night… But what is that to thee?

Every time would have its song If the heart were right, Seeing Love all tender-strong Fills the day and night. Weary drop the hands of Prayer

O lassie ayont the hill, Come ower the tap o’ the hill, Come ower the tap wi’ the breeze o… Bidena ayont the hill! I’m needin ye sair the nicht,

Nature, to him no message dost tho… Who in thy beauty findeth not the… To gird himself more strongly for… Of night and darkness. Oh, what c… The woods, the valleys, and the mo…

When peevish flaws his soul have s… To fretful tears for crossed desir… Obedient to his mother’s word My child to banishment retires. As disappears the moon, when wind

Were thou and I the white pinions On some eager, heaven-born dove, Swift would we mount to the old do… To our rest of old, my love! Were thou and I trembling strands

I cannot praise thee. By his inst… The master sits, and moves nor foo… For see the organ-pipes this, that… Leaning, o’erthrown, like wheat-st… I well could praise thee for a flo…

Said the boy as he read, ‘I too w… I will fight for the truth and its… He went to the playground, and soo… A very cowardly story! Said the girl as she read, ‘That…

As to her child a mother calls, ‘Come to me, child; come near!’ Calling, in silent intervals, The Master’s voice I hear. But does he call me verily?

Of old, with goodwill from the ski… God’s message to them given– The angels came, a glad surprise, And went again to heaven. But now the angels are grown rare,

From the German of Dessler . O Lord, how happy is the time When in thy love I rest! When from my weariness I climb

I am weary, and very lonely, And can but think-think. If there were some water only That a spirit might drink-drink, And arise,

Strait is the path? He means we m… Yes; but the strait path leads int…

Forth to his study the sculptor go… In a mood of lofty mirth: ‘Now shall the tongues of my carpi… Confess what my art is worth! In my brain last night the vision…