Of old, with goodwill from the ski… God’s message to them given– The angels came, a glad surprise, And went again to heaven. But now the angels are grown rare,

Kiss me: there now, little Neddy, Do you see her staring steady? There again you had a chance of he… Didn’t you catch the pretty glance… See her nest! On any planet

All sights and sounds of day and y… All groups and forms, each leaf an… Are thine, O God, nor will I fea… To talk to thee of them .

’Tis time to sleep, my little boy: Why gaze thy bright eyes so? At night our children, for new joy Home to thy father go, But thou art wakeful! Sleep, my c…

I have long enough been working do… Working spade and pick, boring-chi… I long for wider spaces, airy, cle… Successless labour never the love… More profit surely lies in a holy,…

Trust my father, saith the eldest-… I did trust him ere the earth bega… Not to know him is to be forlorn; Not to love him is-not to be man. He that knows him loves him altoge…

A tattered soldier, gone the glow… With wounds half healed, and sorel… Homeward I come, to claim no vict… I only faced the foe, and did not…

If I were a monk, and thou wert a… Pacing it wearily, wearily, Twixt chapel and cell till day wer… Wearily, wearily– How would it fare with these heart…

I do remember how, when very young… I saw the great sea first, and hea… As I drew nearer, caught within t… Of its vast size and its mysteriou… How the floor trembled, and the da…

Star high, Baby low: ‘Twixt the two Wise men go; Find the baby,

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,…

I have only one foot, but thousand… My one foot stands well, but never… I’ve a good many arms, if you coun… But hundreds of fingers, large and… From the ends of my fingers my bea…

Love alone is great in might, Makes the heavy burden light, Smooths rough ways to weary feet, Makes the bitter morsel sweet: Love alone is strength!

THE song birds that come to me ni… Fly oft away and vanish if I slee… Nor to my fowling-net will one ret… Is the thing ever ours we cannot k… But their souls go not out into th…

I was very cold In the summer weather; The sun shone all his gold, But I was very cold– Alas, we were grown old,