Thousands of angels at thy gate,
And great archangels stand,
And twenty thousand chariots wait,
Great Lord, thy dread command!
Through all thy great, thy vast domains,
With godlike honours clad,
Captivity in captive chains
Triumphing thou hast led.

Stretch forth thine hand.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach

The spreading wide my narrow Hands
To gather Paradise.

I will not let thee go.
I hold thee by too many bands:
Thou sayest farewell, and lo!
I have thee by the hands,
And will not let thee go.

Over the ships that are anchored,
Over the fleets that part,
Over the cities dark by the shore,
High as a dream thou art!

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.

May you be ever overwhelmed by how many people you love.

Dear Saviour! we are Thine,
By everlasting bands;
Our hearts, our souls, we would resign
Entirely to Thy hands.

Even though Thou dost expose me to divers temptations and adversities, Thou ordainest all this unto my advantage, for Thou are wont to prove Thy beloved ones in a thousand ways.

Sweet hymns shall be my chant and woven songs,
For Thou art all for which my spirit longs--
To be within the shadow of Thy hand
And all Thy mystery to understand.
The while Thy glory is upon my tongue,
My inmost heart with love of thee is wrung,
So though Thy mighty marvels I proclaim,
'Tis songs of love wherewith I greet Thy name.

Slowly he lifted his hands in the darkness and held them in mid-air, the fingers spread weakly open. If he reached out with his hands, and if his hands were electric wires, and if his heart were a battery giving life and fire to those hands, and if he reached out with his hands and touched other people, reached out through these stone walls and felt other hands connected with other hearts -- if he did that, would there be a reply, a shock?

Thy throne is ringed by amorous cavaliers, And all the air is heavy with the sound
Of tiptoe compliment, whilst anxious fears Strike dumb the lesser satellites around.
One clasps thy hand, another squires thy chair, Some bask in light shed from the eyes of thee,
Some taste the perfume shaken from thy hair, Some watch afar their worshipped deity.
All have their orbits, and due distance keep, As round the sun concentric planets move;
Smiles light yon lord, whilst I, at distance, weep In the sad twilight of uncertain love.
’Thwart thee, my sun, how many a mincer slips,
Whose constant transits make for me eclipse.

I know that the arms of friendship are long enough to reach from the one end of the world to the other