What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.

There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.

I heard no longer The snowy-banded, dilettante, Delicate-handed priest intone.

That which we are, we are, and if we are ever to be any better, now is the time to begin.

A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.

So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.

Speak to Him, thou, for He hears, and Spirit with Spirit can meet- Closer is He than breathing, and nearer than hands and feet.