One do I see and twelve; but seco… Methinks I know thee, thou belove… Not from thy nobler port, for ther… More quiet-featured: some there ar… Their message on their brows, whil…

Gray clouds my heaven have covered… My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow; Ghastly and dry, my desert shore Parched, bare, unsightly things do… ’Tis thou, Lord, cloudest up my s…

O Lord, my God, how long Shall my poor heart pant for a bou… How long, O mighty Spirit, shall… The murmur of Truth’s crystal wat… From the deep caverns of their end…

I waited for the Master In the darkness dumb; Light came fast and faster– My light did not come! I waited all the daylight,

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

What would you see, if I took you… My little aerie-stair? You would see the sky like a clear… Turned upside down in the air. What would you do, up my aerie-sta…

Brother artist, help me; come! Artists are a maimed band: I have words but not a hand; Thou hast hands though thou art du… Had I thine, when words did fail–

O Thou that walkest with nigh hop… Past the one harbour, built for th… Doth no stray odour from its table… No truant beam from fire or candle… At his wide door the host doth sta…

The sun is sinking in the west, Long grow the shadows dim; Have patience, sister, to be blest… Wait patiently for Him. Thou knowest love, much love hast…

Tumultuous rushing o’er the outstr… A wildered maze of comets and of s… The blood of changeless God that… With quick diastole up the immorta… A phantom host that moves and work…

Roses all the rosy way! Roses to the rosier west Where the roses of the day Cling to night’s unrosy breast! Thou who mak’st the roses, why

Father, I cry to thee for bread With hungred longing, eager prayer… Thou hear’st, and givest me instea… More hunger and a half-despair. 0 Lord, how long? My days decline…

Were I a skilful painter, My pencil, not my pen, Should try to teach thee hope and… And who would blame me then?- Fear of the tide of darkness

ALAS, my tent! see through it a… Moaning, poor Fancy’s doves are s… I sit alone, a sorrow half asleep, My consciousness the blackness all… No pilgrim I, a homeless wanderer…

Go not forth to call Dame Sorrow From the dim fields of Tomorrow; Let her roam there all unheeded, She will come when she is needed; Then, when she draws near thy door…