How Like They Are To Human Things!

O Holy Trust! O Endless Sense Of Rest! Like The Beloved John To Lay His Head Upon The Saviour's Breast, And Thus To Journey On!

Love Makes Its Record In Deeper Colors As We Grow Out Of Childhood Into Manhood.

Ah, How Wonderful Is The Advent Of The Spring!—the Great Annual Miracle.... Which No Force Can Stay, No Violence Restrain, Like Love, That Wins Its Way And Cannot Be Withstood By Any Human Power, Because Itself Is Divine Power. If Spring Came But Once In A Century, Instead Of Once A Year, Or Burst Forth With The Sound Of An Earthquake, And Not In Silence, What Wonder And Expectation Would There Be In All Hearts To Behold The Miraculous Change!... We Are Like Children Who Are Astonished And Delighted Only By The Second-hand Of The Clock, Not By The Hour-hand.

Tis Always Morning Somewhere.

All Sense Of Hearing And Of Sight Enfold In The Serene Delight And Quietude Of Sleep.