But there was heard among the holy hymns A voice as of the waters, for she dwells Down in a deep‐ calm, whatsoever storms may shake the world - Alfred Tennyson

Never comes the trader, never floats an European flag, — Slides the bird o’er lustrous woodland, swings the trailer from the crag, — Droops the heavy-blossomed bower, hangs the heavy-fruited tree, — Summer isles of Eden lying in dark-purple spheres of sea.

Remember that sore saying spoken once By Him that was the Truth, 'How hard it is For the rich man to enter into heaven!' Let all rich men remember that hard word.

I sometime hold it half a sin
To put in words the grief I feel;
For words, like Nature, half reveal
And half conceal the Soul within.