Jean Ingelow

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

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

Man is the miracle in nature. God
Is the One Miracle to man. Behold,
"There is a read more

Man is the miracle in nature. God
Is the One Miracle to man. Behold,
"There is a God," thou sayest. Thou sayest well:
In that thou sayest all. To Be is more
Of wonderful, than being, to have wrought,
Or reigned, or rested.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

How gently rock yon poplars high
Against the reach of primrose sky
With heaven's pale candles stored.

And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.

And bitter waxed the fray;
Brother with brother spake no word
When they met in the way.

Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling read more

Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,
Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup,
And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.