#English
Who would not wish the Dead were… If we can dry the mourners’ tear? Who would not pray the Dead may s… When starving Orphans wake to wee…
WHEN the merry spring-tide Floods all the land; Nature hath a Mother’s heart, Gives with open hand; Flowers running up the lane
WE read your Letters! no word los… All, all is rememberèd; And often when there comes no Pos… Once more are the old ones read. Of all she did we love to hear,
Surrounded by unnumbered Foes, Against my soul the battle goes! Yet though I weary, sore-distress… I know that I shall reach my Rest… I lift my tearful eyes above,—
No green age, beautiful to see, Hath Poor Old Gran! No ripe life mellowed goldenly Hath Poor Old Gran! One by one we have left her fold,
They pity Pegasus because The Matrimonial Car he draws Along the ruts of life: And hot and dusty is the road, And heavy is the living load
I sometimes think that Shakespear… To me that very self so long conce… But if his soul my soul has lighte… I sometimes think it was to gaze o… To find, with loving wonder in his…
You have your Angel in the House!… On this, her likeness, mirrored in… If but to learn how shadowy the I… In presence of the living, loving…
We thank Thee, Lord, for one day To look Heaven in the face! The Poor have only Sunday; The sweeter is the grace. 'Tis then they make the music
The tender green that laughs out i… And drinks the freshness of the de… Must take the cloud of dust that t… And burnish every tiny blade again… The river into which heaven cometh…
The stream of Life that brimmed i… We drain to gather Wisdom’s grain… And often as we count the riches o… Half wish our wealth were drowned…
Slow step by step, day after day, I journey on my homeward way; And darkly dream the Land of Ligh… Is drawing near, night after night… Where I shall reach my Rest at la…
There are two Heavens for natures… And calm as thine, my gentle Love… One Heaven but reflected here; One Heaven that waits above: As yonder Lake, in Evening’s red,
Dark, dark the night, and tearfull… Lost in the Shadows, feeling for… But cannot find it. Here’s no hel… And God is very far off with His… Hush, hush, faint heart! why this…
‘TIS hard to die in Spring-time, When, to mock our bitter need, All life around runs over In its fullness without heed: New life for tiniest twig on tree,
