Love Is Sentimental Measles.

Love Is Sentimental Measles.

Look At The Bow In The Cloud, In The Very Rain Itself. That Is A Sign That The Sun, Though You Cannot See It, Is Shining Still -- That Up Above Beyond The Cloud Is Still Sunlight And Warmth And Cloudless Blue Sky.

And No One Has The Right To Say That No Water-babies Exist, Till They Have Seen No Water-babies Existing; Which Is Quite A Different Thing, Mind, From Not Seeing Water-babies; And A Thing Which Nobody Ever Did, Or Perhaps Will Ever Do. But Surely ... They Would Have Put It Into Spirits, Or Into The Illustrated News, Or Perhaps Cut It Into Two Halves, Poor Dear Little Thing, And Sent One To Professor Owen, And One To Professor Huxley, To See What They Would Each Say About It.

See The Land, Her Easter Keeping, Rises As Her Maker Rose. Seeds, So Long In Darkness Sleeping, Burst At Last From Winter Snows. Earth With Heaven Above Rejoices.

Nothing Like One Honest Look, One Honest Thought Of Christ Upon His Cross. That Tells Us How Much He Has Been Through, How Much He Endured, How Much He Conquered, How Much God Loved Us, Who Spared Not His Only Begotten Son, But Freely Gave Him For Us. Dare We Doubt Such A God? Dare We Murmur Against Such A God?