Little one, you must not fret That I take your clothes away; Better sleep you so will get, And at morning wake more gay– Saith the children’s mother.

Who know thee, love: thy life be s… That, ere the year be o’er, Each one who loves thee now so muc… Even God, may love thee more!

I shall be satisfied With the seeing of thy face. When I awake, wide-eyed, I shall be satisfied With what this life did hide,

‘Death, whaur do ye bide, auld De… ‘I bide in ilka breath,’ Quo’ Death; ‘No i’ the pyramids, No whaur the wormie rids

If thou art tempted by a thought o… Crave not too soon for victory, no… Thou art a coward if thy safety se… To spring too little from a righte… For there is nightmare on thee, no…

With wandering eyes and aimless ze… She hither, thither, goes; Her speech, her motions, all revea… A mind without repose. She climbs the hills, she haunts t…

The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…

Father, in the dark I lay, Thirsting for the light, Helpless, but for hope alway In thy father-might. Out of darkness came the morn,

A still dark joy! A sudden face! Cold daylight, footsteps, cries! The temple’s naked, shining space, Aglare with judging eyes! All in abandoned guilty hair,

Now far from my old northern land, I live where gentle winters pass; Where green seas lave a wealthy st… And unsown is the grass ;

The monk was praying in his cell, With bowed head praying sore; He had been praying on his knees For two long hours and more. As of themselves, all suddenly,

O Peter, wherefore didst thou dou… Indeed the spray flew fast about, But he was there whose walking foo… Could make the wandering hills tak… And he had said, ‘Come down to me…

With us there is no gray fearing, With us no aching for lack! For the morn it is always nearing, And the night is at our back. At times a song will fall dumb,

‘Traveller, what lies over the hil… Traveller, tell to me: Tip-toe-high on the window-sill Over I cannot see.’ ‘My child, a valley green lies the…

In God alone, the perfect end, Wilt thou find thyself or friend.