But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have
need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion read more

But whoso hath this world's good, and seeth his brother have
need, and shutteth up his bowels of compassion from him, how
dwelleth the love of God in him?

But there is one thing which we are responsible for, and that is
for our sympathies, for the manner read more

But there is one thing which we are responsible for, and that is
for our sympathies, for the manner in which we regard it, and for
the tone in which we discuss it. What shall we say, then, with
regard to it? On which side shall we stand?

For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
read more

For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And read more

In the desert a fountain is springing,
In the wide waste there still is a tree,
And a bird in the solitude singing,
Which speaks to my spirit of thee.

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
read more

Or, if there were a sympathy in choice,
War, death, or sickness did lay siege to it,
Making it momentany as a sound,
Swift as a shadow, short as any dream,
Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth,
And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!'
The jaws of darkness do devour it up:
So quick bright things come to confusion.

His morality is all sympathy, just what morality should be

His morality is all sympathy, just what morality should be

The craving for sympathy is the common boundary-line between joy
and sorrow.

The craving for sympathy is the common boundary-line between joy
and sorrow.

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And read more

Our souls sit close and silently within,
And their own web from their own entrails spin;
And when eyes meet far off, our sense is such,
That, spider like, we feel the tenderest touch.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.

Of a truth, men are mystically united: a mystic bond of
brotherhood makes all men one.