The moon looks upon many night flowers; the night flowers see but one moon.
Yet there are some resting-places, / Life's untroubled interludes; / Times when neither past nor future / On the soul's deep calm intrudes.
How gently rock yon poplars high Against the reach of primrose sky With heaven's pale candles stored.
Man is the miracle in nature. God Is the One Miracle to man.
It is not reason which makes faith hard, but life.
When sparrows build and the leaves break forth My old sorrow wakes and cries.