When I am dead unto myself, and l… O Father, thee live on in me, Contented to do nought but pay my… And leave the house to thee, Then shall I be thy ransomed-from…

‘They have no more wine!’ she said… But they had enough of bread; And the vessels by the door Held for thirst a plenteous store: Yes,

O wild and dark! a night hath foun… Wherein I mingle with that elemen… Sent madly loose through the wide… In yon tormented branches! I will… A while unto the storm, and thence…

Babe Jesus lay in Mary’s lap, The sun shone in his hair; And this was how she saw, mayhap, The crown already there. For she sang: ‘Sleep on, my littl…

I see thy house, but I am blown a… A wind-mocked kite, between the ea… All out of doors-alas! of thy door… And drenched in dews no summer sun… For every blast is passion of my o…

Love, the baby, Crept abroad to pluck a flower: One said, Yes, sir; one said, May… One said, Wait the hour. Love, the boy,

When, in the mid-sea of the night, I waken at thy call, O Lord, The first that troop my bark aboar… Are darksome imps that hate the li… Whose tongues are arrows, eyes a b…

Why dost thou want to sing When thou hast no song, my heart? If there be in thee a hidden sprin… Wherefore will no word start? On its way thou hearest no song,

Old fables are not all a lie That tell of wondrous birth, Of Titan children, father Sky, And mighty mother Earth. Yea, now are walking on the ground

O Lord, at Joseph’s humble bench Thy hands did handle saw and plane… Thy hammer nails did drive and cle… Avoiding knot and humouring grain. That thou didst seem, thou wast in…

When thy heart, love-filled, grows… And eternal bliss looks nearer, Ask thy heart, nor show it favour, Is the gift or giver dearer? Love, love on; love higher, deeper…

‘What! you Dr. Doddridge’s dog, a… My little dog, who blessed you With such white toothy-pegs? And who was it that dressed you In such a lot of legs?

In the winter, flowers are springi… In the winter, woods are green, Where our banished birds are singi… Where our summer sun is seen! Our cold midnights are coeval

From Schiller ‘Which of you, knight or squire, w… Plunge into yonder gulf? A golden beaker I fling in it-the… The black mouth swallows it like a…

I say! hey! cousin there! I mustn… Yet you have a tail behind, and I… You pull, and I pull, though we d… You have less hardship, and I hav… II.