If I might guess, then guess I wo… That, mid the gathered folk, This gentle Dorcas one day stood, And heard when Jesus spoke. She saw the woven seamless coat–

For years eighteen she, patient so… Her eyes had graveward sent; Her earthly life was lapt in dole, She was so bowed and bent. What words! To her? Who can be ne…

A brown bird sang on a blossomy tr… Sang in the moonshine, merrily, Three little songs, one, two, and… A song for his wife, for himself,… He sang for his wife, sang low, sa…

‘Shew us the Father.’ Chiming sta… And lives that fit the worlds, and… A Thought that holds them up reve… A Wisdom we have been made wise t… And, looking out from sweetest Na…

Thy world is made to fit thine own… A nursery for thy children small, The playground-footstool of thy th… Thy solemn school-room, Father of… When day is done, in twilight’s gl…

I dreamed of a song-I heard it su… In the ear of my soul its strange… What were its words I could not t… Only the voice I heard right well… For its tones unearthly my spirit…

O do not leave me, mother, lest I… Till I forget, be near me in that… The mother’s presence leads her do… Leaves her contented there. O do not leave me, lover, brother,…

WHAT though my words glance side… Which I would utter in thine ear,… Truth in the inward parts thou dos… Wise hunger, not a fitness fine of… The little child that clamouring f…

Lord, what is man That thou art mindful of him! Though in creation’s van, Lord, what is man! He wills less than he can,

Look! look there! Send your eyes across the gray By my finger-point away Through the vaporous, fumy air. Beyond the air, you see the dark?

Everything goes to its rest; The hills are asleep in the noon; And life is as still in its nest As the moon when she looks on a mo… In the depth of a calm river’s bre…

It is May, and the moon leans dow… Over a blossomy land; Leans from her window a lady white… With her cheek upon her hand. ‘Oh, why in the blue so misty, moo…

Imagination cannot rise above thee… Near and afar I see thee, and I l… My misery away from me I thrust i… For thy perfection I behold, and…

He who by a mother’s love Made the wandering world his own, Every year comes from above, Comes the parted to atone, Binding Earth to the Father’s thr…

Are the leaves falling round about The churchyard on the hill? Is the glow of autumn going out? Is that the winter chill? And yet through winter’s noise, no…