When to the garden of untroubled t… I came of late, and saw the open d… And wished again to enter, and exp… The sweet, wild ways with stainles… And bowers of innocence with beaut…
They who tread the path of labor f… They who work without complaining,… Nevermore thou needest seek me; I… Raise the stone, and thou shalt fi… Where the many toil together, ther…
Time is Too Slow for those who Wait, Too Swift for those who Fear, Too Long for those who Grieve, Too Short for those who Rejoice;
I love thine inland seas, Thy groves of giant trees, Thy rolling plains; Thy rivers’ mighty sweep, Thy mystic canyons deep,
“Two things,” the wise man said, “… The starry heavens and the moral l… Nay, add another wonder to thy rol… The living marvel of the human sou… Born in the dust and cradled in th…
It pleased the Lord of Angels (pr… To hear, one day, report from thos… With pitying sorrow, or exultant j… To tell of earthly tasks in His e… For some were sorry when they saw…
Let me but love my love without di… Nor wear a mask of fashion old or… Nor wait to speak till I can hear… Nor play a part to shine in others… Nor bow my knees to what my heart…
When Stiivoren town was in its pr… And queened the Zuyder Zee, Its ships went out to every clime With costly merchantry. A lady dwelt in that rich town,
I read within a poet’s book A word that starred the page: “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage!” Yes, that is true; and something m…
If I have erred in showing all my… And lost your favour by a lack of… If standing like a beggar at your… With naked feet, I have forgot th… Of those who bargain well in passi…
Let me but do my work from day to… In field or forest, at the desk or… In roaring market—place or tranqui… Let me but find it in my heart to… When vagrant wishes beckon me astr…
If Might made Right, life were a… If Right made Might, this were th… But now, until we win the long cam… Right must gain Might to conquer…
When the frosty kiss of Autumn in… Makes its mark On the flowers, and the misty morn… Over fallen leaves; Then my olden garden, where the go…
Heart of France for a hundred yea… Passionate, sensitive, proud, and… Quick to throb with her hopes and… Fierce to flame with her sense of… You, who hailed with a morning son…
If all the skies were sunshine, Our faces would be fain To feel once more upon them The cooling splash of rain. If all the world were music,
