Children bring their own love with them when they come.
I am athirst for God, the living God.
Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.
You moon, have you done something wrong in heaven / That God has hidden your face?
The red Sahara in an angry glow, / With amber fogs, across its hollows trailed / Long strings of camels, gloomy-eyed and slow.
And old affront will stir the heart Through years of rankling pain.