Heart Of My Heart, The World Is

Of The Sayings Of Christ In The Synoptic Gospels That Can Be Compared To Those In The Fourth Gospel, There Are One Or Two Which I Venture To Think Can Only Have Been Recorded On The Authority Of St. John.

This Outer World Is But The Pictured Scroll Of Worlds Within The Soul; A Colored Chart, A Blazoned Missal-book, Whereon Who Rightly Look May Spell The Splendors With Their Mortal Eyes, And Steer To Paradise.

If Ever I Had Any Doubts About The Fundamental Realities Of Religion, They Could Always Be Dispelled By One Memory- The Light Upon My Father's Face As He Came Back From Early Communion.

Enough Of Dreams! No Longer Mock The Burdened Hearts Of Men! Not On The Cloud, But On The Rock Build Thou Thy Faith Again; O Range No More The Realms Of Air, Stoop To The Glen-bound Streams; Thy Hope Was All Too Like Despair: Enough, Enough Of Dreams.

Your Dreamers May Dream It The Shadow Of A Dream, Your Sages May Deem It A Bubble On The Stream; Yet Our Kingdom Draweth Nigher With Each Dawn And Every Day, Through The Earthquake And The Fire Love Will Find Out The Way.