('Be christs!'- was one of W. T. Stead’s favourite sayings. Not ‘Be like Christ!’- but– ‘Be christs!’ And he used the word no doubt in its original meaning,- anointed, ordained, chosen....

Rabbi, begone! Thy powers Bring loss to us and ours. Our ways are not as Thine. Thou lovest men, we—swine. Oh, get you hence, Omnipotence,

Where are you sleeping to-night,… Above-ground—or below? The last we heard you were up at t… Holding a trench and bearing the b… But—that was a week ago.

There is darkness still, gross dar… On this fair earth of Thine. There are prisoners still in the p… Where never a light doth shine. There are doors still bolted again…

Curly head, and laughing eyes,— Mischief that all blame defies. Cricket,—footer,—Eton-jacket,— Everlasting din and racket. Tennis,—boating,—socks and ties,—

(Cradle Song from “The Long Road… Whisht, Baby! Whisht! Quick below the cover! Down into your nest, my bird! And—don’t—you—dare—peep—over!

Unnamed at times, at times unknown… Our graves lie thick beyond the se… Unnamed, but not of Him unknown;— He knows!—He sees! And not one soul has fallen in vai…

Watchman! What of the night? No light we see,— Our souls are bruised and sickened… Of this foul crime against humanit… The Ways are dark——

Hello! Hello! Are you there? Are you there? Ah! That you? Well,— This is just to tell you That there’s trouble in the air...

Shapeless and grim, A Shadow dim O’erhung the ways, And darkened all my days. And all who saw,

The Golden Rose is blowing still, Is growing still, is glowing still… In lonely vale, on lordly hill, The Golden Rose is glowing still;… If only you can find it!

Winter hung about the ways, Very loth to go. Little Spring could not get past… Try she never so. This side,—that side, everywhere,

To us it seemed his life was too s… Ended, indeed, while scarcely yet… God, with His clearer vision, saw… Was ready for a larger ministry. Just so we thought of Him, whose…

By the grace of God and the coura… Of the peoples far and wide, By the toil and sweat of those who… And the blood of those who died, We have won the fight, we have sav…

We thank Thee, Lord, For all Thy Golden Silences,— For every Sabbath from the world’… For every respite from the stress… Silence of moorlands rolling to th…