The burden that I bear would be n… Should I cry out against it; thou… The weary day with sound of my dis… It were my burden still. The burden that I bear may be no…

1. Melchior, Gaspar, Balthazar, Great gifts they bore and meet; White linen for His body fair And purple for His feet; And golden things—the joy of kings…

She came not into the Presence as… Crowned, white—robed and adoring,… She stood as a straight young sold… Who asks a boon of his captain in… She said: ‘Now have I stayed too…

The kindliest thing God ever made… His hand of very healing laid Upon a fevered world, is shade. His glorious company of trees Throw out their mantles, and on th…

I am as weary as a child That weeps upon its mother’s breas… For joy of comforting. But I Have no such place to rest. I am as weary as a bird

Mothers of men—the words are good… Pride in the very sound of them, s… Why is it their faces haunt me, wi… Ever some dear thing vanished and… Mothers of Men?

For mocking on men’s faces He only sees instead The hidden, hundred traces Of tears their eyes have shed. Above their lips denying,

I saw the old sea captain in his c… Shaved till his chin was pink, and… In a broadcloth suit and varnished… (I’d seen him last with a slicker… And it happened that I went home…

The Angel of the night when night… High upon Heaven’s ramparts, crie… And wheeling worlds grew radiant w… And undiminished glory of the sun. And Angel, Seraph, Saint and Che…

They do not know the awful tears w… The tender treasures that we keep… They could not be so still—our qui… In knowing this. They do not know what time we turn…

She put her wedding-gown away As tenderly as one might close, With kissing lips and finger-tips, The petals of a rose Still held for the Belovèd’s sake…

The little dream she had forgot Oh, long and long ago, Came back across the April fields And touched her garment so (As might a wind-blown primrose cl…

They brought to the little Prince… The lovely things, the beautiful t… They covered her floor with crimso… They hung the windows with cloth o… (Lest the highway show an unlovely…

They are ashamed who leave so soon The Inn of Grief—who thought to s… Through many a faithful sun and mo… Yet tarry but a day. Shame-faced I watch them pay the…

I said I will go back again where… Were glad together. But my dear,… Where are the roses we were wont t… The songs we used to hear? I said the hearth-flame that once…