If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy flood; Ankle-deep you stick in mud In the meadows while you sing, This is Spring.
O Light divine! we need no fuller test That all is ordered well; We know enough to trust that all is best Where Love and Wisdom dwell. - Christopher Pearse Cranch
O Light divine! we need no fuller test That all is ordered well; We know enough to trust that all is best Where Love and Wisdom dwell.
- Christopher Pearse Cranch
We are spirits clad in veils. - Christopher Pearse Cranch
We are spirits clad in veils.
I become more and more inclined to sink the minister in the man, and abandon my present calling in toto as a profession... to create a living religio… - Christopher Pearse Cranch
I become more and more inclined to sink the minister in the man, and abandon my present calling in toto as a profession... to create a living religio…
We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen. - Christopher Pearse Cranch
We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen.
I wonder now if you ever remember... Whether your June is all turned to December... Gone are those winters of chats and of dances... Gone the aroma o… - Christopher Pearse Cranch
I wonder now if you ever remember... Whether your June is all turned to December... Gone are those winters of chats and of dances... Gone the aroma o…
Beautiful and rare Aurora, In the heavens thou art their Flora - Christopher Pearse Cranch
Beautiful and rare Aurora, In the heavens thou art their Flora
No night so wild but brings the constant sun With love and power untold; No time so dark but through its woof there run Some blessed threads of gold. - Christopher Pearse Cranch
No night so wild but brings the constant sun With love and power untold; No time so dark but through its woof there run Some blessed threads of gold.
He that would earn the Poet's sacred name, Must write for future as for present ages. - Christopher Pearse Cranch
He that would earn the Poet's sacred name, Must write for future as for present ages.
If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy f… - Christopher Pearse Cranch
If there comes a little thaw, Still the air is chill and raw, Here and there a patch of snow, Dirtier than the ground below, Dribbles down a marshy f…
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