#EnglishWriters
With the thirty pieces of silver, They bought the Potter’s Field; For none would have the blood-mone… And the interest it might yield. The Place of Blood for the Price…
Mr. F.W. Christian, of the Polynesian Society of New Zealand, whose personal acquaintance with the South Sea Islands and their dialects is unique, is translating “Kapiolani” into Ra...
Out of all the reek and turmoil Of the dreadful battle-plain, Came a voice insistent, calling, Calling, calling, but in vain;— “Through Me only
Flora, with wondrous feathers in h… Rain-soaked, and limp, and feeling… With flowers of sorts in her full… Back to the railings, there by Ch… And cursed the weather and a blank…
A Potter, playing with his lump o… Fashioned an image of supremest wo… "Never was nobler image made on ea… Than this that I have fashioned o… And I, of mine own skill, did fas…
O, Prince of Life, Thy Life hath… All life to sweeter, loftier grace… Life’s common rounds have wider bo… Since Thou hast trod life’s commo… O, Heart of Love! Thy Tenderness
“Thy Will be done!” Let all the worlds Resound with that divinest prayer! The joyous souls redeemed from ill Know all the wonders of Thy Will;
("In the evening I went for a walk to a village lately shelled by German heavy guns. Their effect was awful—ghastly. It was impossible to imagine the amount of damage done until o...
We thank Thee, O our God, for th… Long fought-for, hoped-for, prayed… Thou dost cast down, and Thou upr… Thy hand doth order all our ways. Lift all our hearts to nobler life…
When, with bowed head, And silent-streaming tears, With mingled hopes and fears, To earth we yield our dead; The Saints, with clearer sight,
We thank Thee, Lord, For all Thy Golden Silences,— For every Sabbath from the world’… For every respite from the stress… Silence of moorlands rolling to th…
“A red rose for my helmet, And a word before we part! The rose shall be my oriflamme The word shall fill my heart.” Heart, Heart, Heart of my heart—
The Mills of God grind slowly, bu… So soft and slow the great wheels… But the souls of men fall into the… And in that dust grow the Passion… Most wondrous their upspringing, i…
Singing, she washed Her baby’s clothes, And, one by one, As they were done, She hung them in the sun to dry,
Bond-slave to Christ, and in my b… Earmarked to Him I counted less t… His man henceforward, eager to be… That wondrous Love which Saul the… Sought him and found him, working…