Heaven and the sea attend the dyin… And in their sadness overflow and… Faint gold, and windy blue, and gr… Far out amid them my pale soul I… For, as they mingle, so mix life a…

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

Out of the gulf into the glory, Father, my soul cries out to be li… Dark is the woof of my dismal stor… Thorough thy sun—warp stormily dri… Out of the gulf into the glory,

O Peter, wherefore didst thou dou… Indeed the spray flew fast about, But he was there whose walking foo… Could make the wandering hills tak… And he had said, ‘Come down to me…

O wind of God, that blowest in th… Blow, blow and wake the gentle spr… Blow, swifter blow, a strong warm… Till all the flowers with eyes com… Blow till the fruit hangs red on e…

The monk was praying in his cell, With bowed head praying sore; He had been praying on his knees For two long hours and more. As of themselves, all suddenly,

Sweet friends, receive my offering… Against each worded page a white p… This is the mirror of each friendl… Reflecting that. In this book we… Make it, dear hearts, of worth to…

I know not what among the grass th… Thy nature, nor thy substance, fai… Nor what to other eyes thou hast o… To send thine image through them t… But when I push the frosty leaves…

Alas, how easily things go wrong! A sigh too much, a kiss too long, And there follows a mist and weepi… And life is never the same again. Alas, how hardly things go right!

The sun is gone down And the moon’s in the sky But the sun will come up And the moon be laid by. The flower is asleep.

First, most, to thee, my son, I g… In which a friend’s and brother’s… With mine; for not son only-brothe… Art thou, through sonship which no… Between the eyes that in each othe…

Graut Euch nicht, Ihr lieben Leu… Vor dem ungeheuren Morgen; Wenn es kommt, es ist das Heute, Und der liebe Gott zu sorgen.

A glory on the chamber wall! A glory in the brain! Triumphant floods of glory fall On heath, and wold, and plain. Earth lieth still in hopeless blis…

Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win’ blew laich and eerie. In’s pooch he had a plack or twa–

Loving looks the large-eyed cow, Loving stares the long-eared ass At Heaven’s glory in the grass! Child, with added human birth Come to bring the child of earth