Charles Kingsley

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with read more

Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing,
In the shade of the whispering trees.

Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
read more

Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
Honest Englishmen.
Do the work that's nearest
Though it's dull at whiles,
Helping, when we meet them,
Lame dogs over stiles.

Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a read more

Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,
Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay--
Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.

For science is . . . like virtue, its own exceeding great reward.

For science is . . . like virtue, its own exceeding great reward.

And we shall be made truly wise if we be content; content, too,
not only with what we can read more

And we shall be made truly wise if we be content; content, too,
not only with what we can understand, but content with what we do
not understand--the habit of mind which theologians call--and
rightly--faith in God.