John Greenleaf Whittier ( 10 of 32 )
Of all the words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these... it might have been.
Of all the words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these... it might have been.
For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".
For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these: "It might have been!".
So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And, strong read more
So let it be in God's own might
We gird us for the coming fight,
And, strong in Him whose cause is ours
In conflict with unholy powers,
We grasp the weapons he has given,--
The Light, and Truth, and Love of Heaven.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.
Somehow, not only for Christmas but all the long year through, The joy that you give to others Is the read more
Somehow, not only for Christmas but all the long year through, The joy that you give to others Is the joy that comes back to you. And the more you spend in blessing The poor and lonely and sad, The more of your heart's possessing Returns to you glad.
Press bravely onward!--not in vain
Your generous trust in human kind;
The good which bloodshed could not read more
Press bravely onward!--not in vain
Your generous trust in human kind;
The good which bloodshed could not gain
Your peaceful zeal shall find.
Continuing a short series on forgiveness: When on my day of life the night is falling, And, in read more
Continuing a short series on forgiveness: When on my day of life the night is falling, And, in the winds from unsunned spaces blown, I hear far voices out of darkness calling My feet to paths unknown, Thou who hast made my home of life so pleasant Leave not its tenant when its walls decay; O Love Divine, O Helper ever-present, Be Thou my strength and stay! Be near me when all else is from me drifting; Earth, sky, home's pictures, days of shade and shine, And kindly faces to my own uplifting The love that answers mine. I have but Thee, my Father! let Thy spirit Be with me then to comfort and uphold; No gate of pearl, no branch of palm I merit, Nor street of shining gold. Suffice it if -- my good and ill unreckoned, And both forgiven through Thy abounding grace - I find myself by hands familiar beckoned Unto my fitting place.
Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
read more
Cast not the clouded gem away,
Quench not the dim but living ray,--
My brother man, Beware!
With that deep voice which from the skies
Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice.
God's angel, cries, Forbear!
God gives quietness at last.
God gives quietness at last.
Feast of Cyril & Methodius, Missionaries to the Slavs, 869 & 885 Commemoration of Valentine, Martyr at Rome, c.269 I read more
Feast of Cyril & Methodius, Missionaries to the Slavs, 869 & 885 Commemoration of Valentine, Martyr at Rome, c.269 I see the wrong that round me lies, I feel the guilt within; I hear, with groan and travail-cries, The world confess its sin. Yet, in the maddening maze of things, And tossed by storm and flood, To one fixed trust my spirit clings I know that God is good!
