In Christ there is no East or We… In Him no South or North, But one great Fellowship of Love Throughout the whole wide earth. In Him shall true hearts everywhe…

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

Bright stars of Faith and Hope, h… Shall shine for us through all the… For all her life was Love, and fe… Touch not the love that never dies… And Death itself, to her, was but

Free men of God, the New Day bre… In golden gleams across the sky; The darkness of the night is past, This is the Day of Victory. For this our fathers strove,

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…

“My heart to-day Is strangely full of home! How is it With the dear ones over there? Five years!

Warp and Woof and Tangle,— Weavers of Webs are we. Living and dying—and mightier dead… For the shuttle, once sped, is spe… Weavers of Webs are we.

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?

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…

“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…

Some lives are set in narrow ways, By Love’s wise tenderness. They seem to suffer all their days Life’s direst storm and stress. But God shall raise them up at le…

Evening brings us home,— From our wanderings afar, From our multifarious labours, From the things that fret and jar; From the highways and the byways,

(Cradle Song from “The Long Road… Whisht, Baby! Whisht! Quick below the cover! Down into your nest, my bird! And—don’t—you—dare—peep—over!

Hello! Hello! Are you there? Are you there? Ah! That you? Well,— This is just to tell you That there’s trouble in the air...

Winter hung about the ways, Very loth to go. Little Spring could not get past… Try she never so. This side,—that side, everywhere,