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…

Rabbi, begone! Thy powers Bring loss to us and ours. Our ways are not as Thine. Thou lovest men, we—swine. Oh, get you hence, Omnipotence,

King’s Daughter! Wouldst thou be all fair, Without—within— Peerless and beautiful, A very Queen?

('Be christs!'- was one of W. T. Stead’s favourite sayings. Not ‘Be like Christ!’- but– ‘Be christs!’ And he used the word no doubt in its original meaning,- anointed, ordained, chosen....

“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!

By William Arthur Dunkerley (Joh… "‘See this my garden, Large and fair!’" —Thus, to his friend, The Philosopher.

"Comfort ye, my people!" Saith your God,-- "And be ye comforted! And--be--ye--comforted!" Roughly my plough did plough you,

Oft, as he jogs along the Winding… Occasion comes for Every Man to s… “This Road?—or That?” and as he c… So shall his journey end in Night…

But once I pass this way, And then—no more. But once—and then, the Silent Doo… Swings on its hinges,— Opens... closes,—

To us it seemed his life was too s… Ended, indeed, while scarcely yet… God, with His clearer vision, saw… Was ready for a larger ministry. Just so we thought of Him, whose…

The Greatest Day that ever dawned… It was a Winter’s Morn. The Finest Temple ever built Was a Shed where a Babe was born. The Sweetest Robes by woman wroug…

The wind blows shrill along the hi… —Black is the night and cold— The sky hangs low with its weight… And the drifts are deep on the wol… But what care I for wind or snow?

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…

Unnamed at times, at times unknown… Our graves lie thick beyond the se… Unnamed, but not of Him unknown;— He knows!—He sees! And not one soul has fallen in vai…

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…