Yet crowned with purer radiance
A deeper love they claim,
Because their queen-like whiteness
Is linked with Mary's name.
And now this spray of ivy:
You know its gradual clasp
Uproots strong trees, and towers
Fall crumbling in its grasp.
So God's dear grace around us
With secret patience clings,
And slow, sure power, that loosens
Strong holds on human things.
Then heliotrope, that turneth
Towards her lord the sun,
Would that our thoughts as fondly
Sought our belovèd One.
Nay, if that branch be fading,
Cast not one blossom by,
Its little task is ended
And it does well to die.
And let some field flowers even
Be wreathed among the rest,
I think the infant Jesus
Would love such ones the best.
These flowers are all too brilliant,
So place calm heart's-ease there,
God's last and sacred treasure
For all who wait and bear.
Then lemon-leaves, whose sweetness
Grows sweeter than before
When bruised, and crushed, and broken,
-Hearts need that lesson more.
one crowning glory,
All His, and yet all ours:
The dearest, tenderest thought of all
Is still the Passion-flower's.
So take it now, nay, heed not
My tears that on it fall;
I thank Him for the flowers,
As I can do for all.
THINK if thou couldst know,
O soul that will complain,
What lies concealed below
Our burden and our pain;
How just our anguish brings
Nearer those longed-for things
We seek for now in vain,
I think thou wouldst rejoice, and not complain.
I think if thou couldst see,
With thy dim mortal sight,
How meanings, dark to thee,
Are shadows hiding light;
Truth's efforts crossed and vexed,
Life's purpose all perplexed,
If thou couldst see them right,
I think that they would seem all clear, and wise, and bright.
RDS are lighter than the cloud-foam
Of the restless ocean spray;
Vainer than the trembling shadow
That the next hour steals away.
By the fall of summer rain-drops
Is the air as deeply stirred;
And the rose-leaf that we tread on
Will outlive a word.
Yet, on the dull silence breaking
With a lightning flash, a Word,
Bearing endless desolation
On its blighting wings, I heard:
Earth can forge no keener weapon,
Dealing surer death and pain,
And the cruel echo answered
Through long years again.
I have known one word hang starlike
O'er a dreary waste of years,
And it only shone the brighter
Looked at through a mist of tears;
While a weary wanderer gathered
Hope and heart on Life's dark way,
By its faithful' promise, shining
Clearer day by day.
I have known a spirit, calmer
Than the calmest lake, and clear
As the heavens that gazed upon it,
With no wave of hope or fear;
But a storm had swept across it,
And its deepest depths were stirred,
(Never, never more to slumber,)
Only by a word.
I have known a word more gentle
Than the breath of summer air;
In a listening heart it nestled,
And it lived forever there.
Not the beating of its prison
Stirred it ever, night or day;
Only with the heart's last throbbing
Could it fade away.
Words are mighty, words are living : Serpents with their venomous stings, Or bright angels, crowding round us, With heaven's light upon their wings :
Every word has its own spirit,
True or false, that never dies; Every word man's lips have uttered Echoes in God's skies.
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