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Against her ankles as she trod The lucky buttercups did nod.
Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
O fateful flower beside the rill- The Daffodil, the daffodil!
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.
It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
And bitter waxed the fray; Brother with brother spake no word When they met in the way.
A birthday:-and now a day that rose_x000D__x000D_With much of hope, with meaning rife-_x000D__x000D_A thoughtful day from dawn to close:_x000D__x000D_The middle day of human life.
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
From henceforth thou shalt learn that there is love_x000D__x000D_To long for, pureness to desire, a mount_x000D__x000D_Of consecration it were good to scale.
There is but halting for the wearied foot;_x000D__x000D_The better way is hidden. Faith hath failed;_x000D__x000D_One stronger far than reason mastered her._x000D__x000D_It is not reason makes faith hard, but life.
It is a comely fashion to be glad; Joy is the grace we say to God.
How short our happy days appear!_x000D__x000D_How long the sorrowful!
And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain.
The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.
A healthful hunger for a great idea is the beauty and blessedness of life.
Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.
How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.
I have lived to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered.
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