Yet There Are Some Resting-places,

I Am Glad To Think I Am Not Bound To Make The World Go Right, But Only To Discover And To Do, With Cheerful Heart, The Work That God Appoints.

The Moon Looks Upon Many Night Flowers; The Night Flowers See But One Moon.

Man Is The Miracle In Nature. God Is The One Miracle To Man.

O Sleep, We Are Beholden To Thee, Sleep; Thou Bearest Angels To Us In The Night, Saints Out Of Heaven With Palms. Seen By Thy Light Sorrow Is Some Old Tale That Goeth Not Deep; Love Is A Pouting Child.

What Is Thy Thought? There Is No Miracle? There Is A Great One, Which Thou Hast Not Read, And Never Shalt Escape. Thyself, O Man, Thou Art The Miracle. Ay, Thou Thyself, Being In The World And Of The World, Thyself, Hast Breathed In Breath From Him That Made The World. Thou Art Thy Father's Copy Of Himself,-- Thou Art Thy Father's Miracle.