Methinks ofttimes my heart is like some bee That goes forth through the summer day and sings. And gathers honey from all growing things In garden plot or on the clover lea. ...
There is much that makes me sorry as I journey down life's way. And I seem to see more pathos in poor human lives each day. I'm sorry for the strong brave men, who shield the weak from harm,...
How terrible these nights are when alone With our scarred hearts, we sit in solitude, And some old sorrow, to the world unknown, Does suddenly with silent steps intrude. ...
Spirit of a Great Control, Gird me with thy strength and might, Essence of the Over-Soul - Fill me, thrill me with thy light; Though the waves of sorrow beat Madly at my very feet,...
Who is the strong? Not he who puts to test His sinews with the strong and proves the best; But he who dwells where weaklings congregate, And never lets his splendid strength abate. ...
As we gaze up life's slope, as we gaze In the morn, ere the dewdrops are dry, What splendour hangs over the ways, What glory gleams there in the sky, What pleasures seem waiting us, high...
When the Summer sun is shining, And the green things push and grow, Oft my heart runs over measure, With its flowing fount of pleasure, As I feel the sea winds blow; Ah, then life is good, I know. ...
All in the time when Earth did most deplore The cold, ungracious aspect of young May, Sweet Summer came, and bade him smile once more; She wove bright garlands, and in winsome play...
Lie still and rest, in that serene repose That on this holy morning comes to those Who have been burdened with the cares which make The sad heart weary and the tired head ache. Lie still and rest -...
I saw the day lean o'er the world's sharp edge And peer into night's chasm, dark and damp; High in his hand he held a blazing lamp, Then dropped it and plunged headlong down the ledge. ...
Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother? Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow? And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall, Yet with each morn you rise and onward go?...
Pain can go guised as joy, dross pass for gold, Vulgarity can masquerade as wit, Or spite wear friendship's garments; but I hold That passionate feeling has no counterfeit....
Thou Christ of mine, thy gracious ear low bending Through these glad New Year days, To catch the countless prayers to Heaven ascending - For e'en hard hearts do raise...
There are not many sins when once we sift them. In actions of evolving human souls Striving to reach high goals And falling backward into dust and mire, Some element we find that seems to lift them...
Two thousand years had passed since Christ was born, When suddenly there rose a mighty host Of women, sweeping to a central goal As many rivers sweep on to the sea....