Be patient, very patient; for the skies
Within my human soul now sunset-flushed
Break desperate magic on the world I knew,
And in the crimson evening flying down
Bell-sounds and birds of ancient ecstasy
Most wonderfully carol one time more.

Like a bread without the spreadin',
Like a puddin' without sauce,
Like a mattress without beddin',
Like a cart without a hoss,
Like a door without a latchstring,
Like a fence without a stile,
Like a dry an' barren creek bed--
Is the face without a smile.

Like a house without a dooryard,
Like a yard without a flower,
Like a clock without a mainspring,
That will never tell the hour;
A thing that sort o' makes yo' feel
A hunger all the while--
Oh, the saddest sight that ever was
Is a face without a smile!

Where is poor Jesus gone?
He sits with Dives now,
And his dogs flesh their teeth
On Lazarus below.

Where is poor Jesus gone?
He is with Magdalen,
He doles her piece by piece,
Her pittance of shame!

Where is poor Jesus gone?
The good Samaritan,
What does he there alone?
He stabs the wounded man!

Where is poor Jesus gone,
The lamb they sacrificed?—
They've made God of his carrion
And labelled it “Christ!”

We that look on, with God's goodwill,
Have one plain duty to fulfil:
To drive—by all fair means—afar
This hideous Juggernaut of War,
And teach the Future not to kill.

But there's a plainer duty still:
We need to meet the instant ill,
To heal the wound, to hide the scar—
We that look on!

What timelier task for brain and quill
Than aiding eyes no light can thrill,
No sight of all good things that are,
No morning sky, no evening star—
Shall we not help with all our skill,
We that look on?

Blush, folly, blush: here's none that fears
The wagging of an ass's ears,
Although a wolvish case he wears.
Detraction is but baseness' varlet;
And apes are apes, though clothed in scarlet.
(from Poetaster)

Love is blind, and a wanton;
In the whole world, there is scant one
Such another:
No, not his mother.
He hath plucked her doves, and sparrows,
To feather his sharp arrows,
And alone prevaileth,
While sick Venus waileth.
But if Cypris once recover
The wag; it shall behove her
To look better to him;
Or she will undo him.
(from Poetaster)

My soul, let all thy nobler powers,
And faculties combine:
Awake my tongue, and to my thoughts
Thy tuneful numbers join.

All that's within me, bless and praise
My Saviour and my king:
When he's the subject of the song,
Who can forbear to sing?

Holy and reverend is his name;
How glorious, and how sweet!
All greatness, and all goodness too
I'th' name of J ESUS meet:

A name vile men shall one day dread,
As now the devils fear:
A name the heavenly hosts adore,
To pardon'd sinners dear;

Most dear to them by strongest ties

Jehovah, we in hymns of praise
Thy matchless grace adore,
That grace that gave thy only son:
What couldst thou give us more?

He's all in all: his saints in him
Divine perfection view:
'Tis of his fulness they receive
All grace and glory too.

He freely gave his blood, the price
Of our eternal bliss:
Since no less could atone for sin,
His love would give no less.

He in the wine-press of thy wrath
For guilty men was crusht;
Humbled himself to die, and laid
His honour in the dust.

That we might at his table sit,

The young oak casts its delicate shadow
Over the still and emerald meadow;
The sheep are cropping the fresh spring grass,
And never raise their heads as we pass;
The cattle are taking their noon-day rest,
And chewing the cud with a lazy zest,
Or bathing their feet in the reedy pool
Switch their tails in the shadows cool;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.

T'was in the month of April when birds all merry sing
I took a walk to Kingsthorp right early i' the spring
I took a walk to Kingsthorp right early i' the day
And there I met my true love go barefoot by the way

Her ancles they were handsome and lovely was her feet
Her face was like an Irish girls and beautifully sweet
She passed me like a stranger I think I see her still
I could not tell my own true love in such a dissabille

Her eyes were like two diamonds and a woman all complete
I could have knelt on both my knees and kissed her very feet