#EnglishWriters
Thank God for Peace! Up to the sombre sky Rolled one great thankful sigh, Rolled one great gladsome cry— The soul’s deliverance of a mighty…
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…
“My heart to-day Is strangely full of home! How is it With the dear ones over there? Five years!
“Shall it be Peace? A voice within me cried and would… ‘One man could do it if he would b… (From “Policeman X” in “Bees in… He did not dare!
When the Bells of Ys rang softly,… Soft—and sweet—and low, Not a sound was heard in the old g… As the silvery tones came floating… But life stood still with uncovere…
Every day is Judgment Day, Count on no to-morrow. He who will not, when he may, Act to-day, to-day, to-day, Doth but borrow
centered(A Warning) “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yes, of a truth! Thine asking is thine answer. That self-condemning cry of Cain
(THE PLEA OF THE MUNI… “Rattle and clatter and clank and… And it’s long and long the day is. From earliest morn to late at nigh… And all night long, the selfsame s…
Fold up the tent! The sun is in the West. To-morrow my untented soul will ra… Among the blest. And I am well content,
Think not of any one of them as wa… Or to the void like broken tools o… Unnoticed, unregretted, and unknow… Not so is His care shown. Know this!—
There is darkness still, gross dar… On this fair earth of Thine. There are prisoners still in the p… Where never a light doth shine. There are doors still bolted again…
Soul, dost thou fear For to-day or to-morrow? ’Tis the part of a fool To go seeking sorrow. Of thine own doing
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…
Where are all the young men? There are only grey-heads here. What has become of the young men? centered* * * * * * * This is the young men’s year!
He writes in characters too grand For our short sight to understand; We catch but broken strokes, and t… To fathom all the mystery Of withered hopes, of death, of li…