How softly summer shuts, without the creaking of a door.
Beauty is just a light switch away...'click!' Beauty is not caused. It is.
Longing, it may be, is the gift no other gift supplies.
Bring me the sunset in a cup.
Heavenly Father - take to thee The supreme iniquity Fashioned by thy candid Hand In a moment contraband - Though to trust us seem to us More respectful - We are Dust - We apologize to thee For thine own Duplicity.
MY river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me? My river waits reply. Oh sea, look graciously! I ’ll fetch thee brooks From spotted nooks,— Say, sea, Take me!