When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.

Her face betokened all things dear and good, The light of somewhat yet to come was there Asleep, and waiting for the opening day, When childish thoughts, like flowers would drift away.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover; there's no rain left in heaven.

I am athirst for God, the living God.

Youth! youth! how buoyant are thy hopes! they turn, like marigolds, toward the sunny side.

I have lived life long enough to thank God that all my prayers have not been answered

The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.