One lamp — thy mother’s love — amid the stars Shall lift its pure flame changeless, and before The throne of God, burn through eternity - Holy — as it was lit and lent thee here.

We may believe that we shall know each other's forms hereafter; and in the bright fields of the better land call the lost dead to us.

Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.

The innocence that feels no risk and is taught no caution, is more vulnerable than guilt, and oftener assailed.

Blessed are the joymakers.

Temptation hath a music for all ears.

There is to me a daintiness about early flowers that touches me like poetry. They blow out with such a simple loveliness among the common herbs of pastures, and breathe their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts whose beatings are too gentle for the world.