Lord of
Lord of
spiritual jesus flower
What the sunshine is to the flower, the Lord Jesus Christ is to my soul.
summer garden august
Not wholly in the busy world, nor quite Beyond it, blooms the garden that I love. News from the humming city comes to it It sound of funeral or of marriage bells.
believe proof prove
Faith is believing what we cannot prove.
country glory
There's no glory like those who save their country.
friendship
He that wrongs his friend, wrongs himself more.
nature mind noble
Manners are not idle, but the fruit of loyal and of noble mind.
friendship no-friends made
He makes no friend who never made a foe.
death men thinking
Thou madest man, he knows not why, he thinks he was not made to die.
dance moon night
All night have the roses heard The flute, violin, bassoon; All night has the casement jessamine stirr'd To the dancers dancing in tune; Till a silence fell with the waking bird, And a hush with the setting moon.
grief heart sleep
Whate'er thy joys, they vanish with the day: Whate'er thy griefs, in sleep they fade away, To sleep! to sleep! Sleep, mournful heart, and let the past be past: Sleep, happy soul, all life will sleep at last.
justice judging silence
He that wrongs a friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar ever condemned.
age toil senior-citizen
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil.
dream prayer eye
Are God and Nature then at strife, That Nature lends such evil dreams? So careful of the type she seems, So careless of the single life; ... 'So careful of the type', but no. From scarped cliff and quarried stone She cries, 'A thousand types are gone: I care for nothing, all shall go' ... Man, her last work, who seemed so fair, Such splendid purpose in his eyes, Who rolled the psalm to wintry skies, Who built him fanes of fruitless prayer, Who trusted God was love indeed And love Creation's final law- Tho' Nature red in tooth and claw With ravine, shrieked against his creed...
life self sight
Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, passed in music out of sight.