#EnglishWriters
To every man there openeth A Way, and Ways, and a Way. And the High Soul climbs the Hig… And the Low Soul gropes the Low, And in between, on the misty flats…
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…
A land of lights and shadows inter… A land of blazing sun and blackest… A fortress armed, and guarded jeal… With every portal barred against t… A land in thrall to ancient mystic…
All through the blood-red Autumn, When the harvest came to the full; When the days were sweet with suns… And the nights were wonderful,— The Reaper reaped without ceasing…
Great-Heart is dead, they say,— Great-Heart the Teacher, Great-Heart the Joyous, Great-Heart the Fearless, Great-Heart the Martyr,
We come from the gloom of the shad… Out away on the fringe of the Nig… Where no man could tell, when the… If his eyes would behold the light… To—the—Night,—
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
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…
Is the pathway dark and dreary? God’s in His heaven! Are you broken, heart-sick, weary? God’s in His heaven! Dreariest roads shall have an endi…
Britain! Our Britain! uprisen in… Of your white wrath at treacheries… Roused from your sleep, become onc… Of those high things which make li… Now, God be thanked for even such…
Shapeless and grim, A Shadow dim O’erhung the ways, And darkened all my days. And all who saw,
And we ourselves? Are our hand… Are our souls free from blame For this world-tragedy? Nay then! Like all the rest, We had relaxed our hold on higher…
The spikenard was not wasted;— All down the tale of years, The fragrance of that broken alaba… Still clings to Mary’s memory, As clung its perfume sweet unto he…
“My lord, there came unto the gate One, in such pitiful estate, So all forlorn and desolate, Ill-fed, ill-clad, of ills compact… A leper too,—his poor flesh wracke…