We see the light but see not whence it comes. O Light Invisible, we glorify Thee!
All's well with thee if thou art in just hands.
Make two homes for thyself, my daughter. One actual home. . . and the other a spiritual home which thou are to carry with thee always.
Not poppy, nor mandrake, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep, Which thou owest yesterday.
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to thee.
"Dost thou understand? I love thee!" he cried again. "What love!" said the unhappy girl with a shudder. He resumed,--"The love of a damned soul.
The love-lorn nightingale nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well.
One word is too often profaned For me to profane it, One feeling too falsely disdained For thee to disdain it.
We thank Thee, O Father of all, for. . . all the soul-help that sad souls understand.
If there are but few who interest thee, why shouldst thou be disappointed if but few find thee interesting?
With little here to do or see Of things that in the great world be, Sweet Daisy! oft I talk to thee For thou art worthy, Thou unassuming commonplace Of Nature, with that homely face, And yet with something of a grace Which love makes for thee!
And there shall be for thee all soft delight That shadowy thought can win, A bright torch, and a casement ope at night, To let the warm Love in!
Take Courage, Mortal; Death can't banish thee out of the Universe.
We meet thee, like a pleasant thought, When such are wanted.
If weakness may excuse, What murderer, what traitor, parricide, Incestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it? All wickedness is weakness; that plea, therefore, With God or man will gain thee no remission.
O Love that wilt not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee : I give Thee back the life I owe, That in Thine ocean depths its flow May richer, fuller be.
As thou hast created me out of mingled air and glitter, I thank thee for it. [Ger. , Wie aus Duft und Glanz gemischt Du mich schufst, dir dank ich's heut. ]
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Enrich my heart, mouth, hands in me, With faith, with hope, with charity, That I may run, rise, rest with Thee.
'T is sweeter for thee despairing Than aught in the world beside,-Jessy!
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