We thank Thee, Lord, For mercies manifold in these dark days;-- For Heart of Grace that would not suffer wrong; For all the stirrings in the dead dry bones; For bold self-steeling to the times' dread needs;...
With hearts responsive And enfranchised eyes, We thank Thee, Lord,-- For all things beautiful, and good, and true; For things that seemed not good yet turned to good;...
We thank Thee, Lord, For all Thy Golden Silences,-- For every Sabbath from the world's turmoil; For every respite from the stress of life;-- Silence of moorlands rolling to the skies,...
Each sin has its door of entrance. Keep--that--door--closed! Bolt it tight! Just outside, the wild beast crouches In the night. Pin the bolt with a prayer, God will fix it there.
Just do your best, And leave the rest To Him who gave you Life,-- And Zeal for Labour,-- And the Joy of Strife,-- And Zest of Love,-- And all that lifts your soul above The lower things....
The Mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small-- So soft and slow the great wheels go they scarcely move at all; But the souls of men fall into them and are powdered into dust,...
Lord God of Hosts, whose mighty hand Dominion holds on sea and land, In Peace and War Thy Will we see Shaping the larger liberty. Nations may rise and nations fall,...
Better than I, Thou knowest, Lord, All my necessity, And with a word Thou canst it all supply. Help other is there none Save Thee alone; Without Thee I'm undone. And so, to Thee I cry,--...
Just see that we get full value Of that for which we have paid. The price has been a heavy one, But the goods are there--and we've paid-. We've paid in our toil and our woundings;...
Great-Heart is dead, they say,-- Great-Heart the Teacher, Great-Heart the Joyous, Great-Heart the Fearless, Great-Heart the Martyr, Great-Heart of Sweet White Fire. ...
We thank Thee, O our God, for this Long fought-for, hoped-for, prayed-for peace; Thou dost cast down, and Thou upraise, Thy hand doth order all our ways.
Thank God for Peace! Up to the sombre sky Rolled one great thankful sigh, Rolled one great gladsome cry-- The soul's deliverance of a mighty people. Thank God for Peace!...
The spikenard was not wasted;-- All down the tale of years, The fragrance of that broken alabaster Still clings to Mary's memory, As clung its perfume sweet unto her Master.
Whisht, Baby! Whisht! Quick below the cover! Down into your nest, my bird! And--don't--you--dare--peep--over! For the grey wolves they are prowling,...