There’s A Magic In The Distance, Where

We Have Come By Curious Ways To The Light That Holds The Days; We Have Sought In Haunts Of Fear For That All-enfolding Sphere: And Lo! It Was Not Far, But Near. We Have Found, O Foolish-fond, The Shore That Has No Shore Beyond. Deep In Every Heart It Lies With Its Untranscended Skies; For What Heaven Should Bend Above Hearts That Own The Heaven Of Love?

Luke Associates John With Peter In Acts, When, After The Resurrection, That Strange Boldness Had Come Upon The Disciples.

Bring The Buds Of The Hazel-copse, Where Two Lovers Kissed At Noon; Bring The Crushed Red Wild-thyme Tops Where They Murmured Under The Moon.

Heart Of My Heart, The World Is Young; Love Lies Hidden In Every Rose!

The Wind Was A Torrent Of Darkness Among The Gusty Trees, The Moon Was A Ghostly Galleon Tossed Upon Cloudy Seas, The Road Was A Ribbon Of Moonlight, Over The Purple Moor, And The Highwayman Came Riding-- Riding--riding-- The Highwayman Came Riding, Up To The Old Inn-door.