Where are you sleeping to-night,… Above-ground—or below? The last we heard you were up at t… Holding a trench and bearing the b… But—that was a week ago.

A wonderful Way is The King’s Hi… It runs through the Nightlands up… From the wonderful WAS, by the w… To the still more wonderful IS T… Runs The King’s High Way.

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…

As It was in the Beginning,— Is Now,— And...? “No room! No room!

Is there, in you or me, Seed of that poison-tree Which, in its bitter fruiting, bor… Such vintage sore Of red calamity—

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…

Lord, give me faith!—to live from… With tranquil heart to do my simpl… And, with my hand in Thine, just… Lord, give me faith!—to trust, if… With quiet mind in all things The…

("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...

(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…

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…

Not for one single day Can I discern my way, But this I surely know,— Who gives the day, Will show the way,

I hear a clear voice calling, call… Calling out of the night, O, you who live in the Light of L… Bring us the Light! We are bound in the chains of dark…

centered(A Warning) “Am I my brother’s keeper?” Yes, of a truth! Thine asking is thine answer. That self-condemning cry of Cain

Hark! The drums! Muffled drums! The long low ruffle of the drums!— And every head is bowed, In the vast expectant crowd, As the Great Queen comes,—

I saw my fellows In Poverty Street,— Bitter and black with life’s defea… Ill-fed, ill-housed, of ills compl… And I said to myself,—