|My mind lets go a thousand things,
Like dates of wars and deaths of kings,
And yet recalls the very hour---
"Twas noon by yonder village tower,
And the last blue noon in May---
The wind came briskly up this way,
Crisping the brook beside the road;
Then, pausing here, set down its load
Of pine-scents, and shook listlessly
Two petals from that wild-rose tree.
-- Thomas Bailey Alrich
|"A commonplace life," we say, and we sigh,
But why should we sigh as we say?
The commonplace sun in the commonplace sky
Makes up the commonplace day;
The moon and the stars are commonplace things,
And the flower that blooms, and the bird that sings;
But dark were the world, and sad our lot,
If the flowers failed, and the sun shone not.
-- Susan Coolidge
|The day before April alone, alone,
I walked to the woods and I sat on a stone.
I sat on a broad stone and sang to the birds,
The tune was their making, but I made the words.
-- Mary Davies
|Who walks the world with soul awake finds beauty everywhere;
Though labor be his portion, though sorrow be his share,
He looks beyond obscuring clouds, sure that the light is there!
And if the ills of mortal life, grown heavier to bear,
Doubt come with its perplexities and whisper of despair,
He turns with love to suffering men...and, lo, God, too, is there.
-- Florence Earle Coates
|Flower in a crannied wall,
I pluck you out of the crannies;
I hold you here, root and all, in my hand;
Little flower, but if I could understand
What you are, root and all, and all and all,
I should know what God and man is.
-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson
|He drew a circle that shut me out - heretic, rebel, a thing to flout -
But love and I had the wit to win; we drew a circle that took him in.
-- Edwin Markham
|"Oh, miracles, I can't accept miracles."
One may drop a brown seed in the black
soil and up comes a green shoot. You let it
grow and by and by you pull up its root and
you find it red. You cut the red root and
find it has a white heart. Can anyone tell
how this comes about...how brown cast
into black results in green and then in red
and white? Yet you eat your radish without
troubling your mind over miracles. Men
are not distressed by miracles in the dining
room, they reserve them for religion.
|Little words are the sweetest to hear; little charities fly farthest and stay longest
on the wing; little lakes are the stillest; little hearts are the fullest and little farms
are the best tilled. Little books are read the most and little songs are the dearest
loved. And when nature would make anything especially rare and beautiful, she
makes it little; little diamonds, little dews. Life is made up of littles; day is made up
of little beams; night is glorious with little stars.
-- Author Unknown
|A Fence Around Today
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|Build a little fence of trust around today,
Fill each space with loving work and therein stay;
Look not through the sheltering bars upon tomorrow,
God will help thee bear what comes...of joy or sorrow.
-- Mary Frances Butts