Open wide the windows of our spirits and fill us full of light; open wide the door of our hearts, that we may receive and entertain Thee with all our powers of adoration.
My heart is like a singing bird.
Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.
O passing angel, speed me with a song, a melody of heaven to reach my heart and rouse me to the race and make me strong.
Tread softly! All the earth is holy ground.
Flowers preach to us if we will hear.
Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.
Were there no God, we would be in this glorious world with grateful hearts, and no one to thank.
I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you’d say, ‘Where? What?’ and turn away.
For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather; To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.
Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine; Love was born at Christmas; Star and angels gave the sign.
Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
Where innocent bright-eyes daisies are With blades of grass between, Each daisy stands up like a star Out of a sky of green.
Silence is more musical than any song.
What is the beginning? Love. What is the course. Love still. What the goal. The goal is love.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago.
The violets whisper from the shade Which their own leaves have made: Men scent our fragrance on the air, Yet take no heed Of humble lessons we would read.
She gave up beauty in her tender youth, gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; she covered up her eyes lest they should gaze on vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget.
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.