An unborn bird lies crumpled and c… A-dreaming of the world. Round it, for castle-wall, a shell Is guarding it well. Hope

Within each living man there doth… In some unrifled chamber of the he… A hidden treasure: wayward as thou… I love thee, man, and bind thee to… By that sweet act I purify my pri…

THOU art of this world, Christ.… Thou know’st our evens, our morns,… How moons, and hearts, and seasons… How we grow weary plodding on the… Of future joy how present pain ber…

I. I honour Nature, holding it un… To look with jealousy on her desig… With every passing year more fast… About my heart; with her mysteriou… Claim I a fellowship not less aug…

Mary, to thee the heart was given For infant hand to hold, And clasp thus, an eternal heaven, The great earth in its fold. He seized the world with tender mi…

The silence of traitorous feet! The silence of close-pent rage! The roar, and the sudden heart-bea… And the shot through the true hear… The truest heart of the age!

With wandering eyes and aimless ze… She hither, thither, goes; Her speech, her motions, all revea… A mind without repose. She climbs the hills, she haunts t…

The homely words how often read! How seldom fully known! ‘Which father of you, asked for br… Would give his son a stone?’ How oft has bitter tear been shed,

If I were a monk, and thou wert a… Pacing it wearily, wearily, Twixt chapel and cell till day wer… Wearily, wearily– How would it fare with these heart…

Beautiful stories wed with lovely… Like words and music:-what shall b… Of love and nobleness that might a… To express in action what this swe… The sweetness of a day of airs and…

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

Waking in the night to pray, Sleeping when the answer comes, Foolish are we even at play– Tearfully we beat our drums! Cast the good dry bread away,

Lord, according to thy words, I have considered thy birds; And I find their life good, And better the better understood: Sowing neither corn nor wheat

Some men there are who cannot spar… A single tear until they feel The last cold pressure, and the he… Is stamped upon the outmost layer. And, waking, some will sigh to thi…

I dinna ken what’s come ower me! There’s a how whaur ance was a her… I never luik oot afore me, An’ a cry winna gar me stert; There’s naething nae mair to come…