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

A pale green sky is gleaming; The steely stars are few; The moorland pond is steaming A mist of gray and blue. Along the pathway lonely

The brother knew well the castle o… Every closet, each outlook fair, Every turret and bartizan bold, Every chamber, garnished or bare. The brother was out in the heavenl…

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…

Summer, sweet Summer, many-finger… We hold thee very dear, as well we… It is the kernel of the year to—da… All hail to thee! thou art a welco… If every insect were a fairy drumm…

Hark, in the steeple the dull bell… Over the furrows ill ploughed by… Hark the bird-babble, the loud lar… Hark, from the sky, what the proph… Hark, in the pines, the free Wind…

Near him she stole, rank after ran… She feared approach too loud; She touched his garment’s hem, and… Back in the sheltering crowd. A shame-faced gladness thrills her…

Daylight fades away. Is the Lord at hand In the shadows gray Stealing on the land? Gently from the east

Sweep up the flure, Janet; Put on anither peat. It’s a lown and a starry nicht, J… And nowther cauld nor weet. It’s the nicht atween the Sancts…

Methought I stood among the stars… Watching a grey parched orb which… Half blinded by the dusty winds th… Empty as Death and barren as a st… The pleasant sound of water all un…

Queen Mary one day Jesus sent To fetch some water, legends tell; The little boy, obedient, Drew a full pitcher from the well; But as he raised it to his head,

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…

The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.

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,

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…