#English
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…
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…
("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...
Through every minute of this day, Be with me, Lord! Through every day of all this week… Be with me, Lord! Through every week of all this yea…
Burden-bearers are we all, Great and small. Burden-sharers be ye all, Great and small! Where another shares the load,
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…
I;— Thou;— We;— They;— Small words, but mighty.
“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;
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…
I trod an arduous way, but came at… To where the city walls rose fair… Above the darkening plain,—a goodl… And eagerly, while yet a great way… My eyes did seek the Gates—the Gr…
The good intent of God became the… And lived on earth—the Living Lov… That men might draw to closer touc… Since Christ in all the ways of m…
As sure as God’s in His Heaven, As sure as He stands for Right, As sure as the hun this wrong hath… So surely we win this fight! Then!-
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...
Singing, she washed Her baby’s clothes, And, one by one, As they were done, She hung them in the sun to dry,
When, with bowed head, And silent-streaming tears, With mingled hopes and fears, To earth we yield our dead; The Saints, with clearer sight,