For Hearts Where Wakened Love Doth Lurk,

O Sleep! O Sleep! Do Not Forget Me. Sometimes Come And Sweep, Now I Have Nothing Left, Thy Healing Hand Over The Lids That Crave Thy Visits Bland, Thou Kind, Thou Comforting One. For I Have Seen His Face, As I Desired, And All My Story Is Done. O, I Am Tired.

It Is A Comely Fashion To Be Glad; Joy Is The Grace We Say To God.

Youth! Youth! How Buoyant Are Thy Hopes! They Turn, Like Marigolds, Toward The Sunny Side.

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.

For Hearts Where Wakened Love Doth Lurk, How Fine, How Blest A Thing Is Work! For Work Does Good When Reasons Fail.