There's a wideness in God's mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There's a kindness in his justice,
Which is more than liberty.

For the love of God is broader
Than the measures of man's mind;
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.

If our love were but more simple,
We should take him at his word,
And our lives would be all sunshine
In the sweetness of our Lord.

God bless the master of this house,
Likewise the mistress too:
And all the little children
That round the table go.

Love and joy come to you,
And to your wassail too,
And God bless you and send you
A happy New Year.

Tho ' 't is all but a dream at the best,
And still, when happiest, soonest o'er,
Yet, even in a dream, to be blest
Is so sweet, that I ask for no more.
The bosom that opes
With earliesThopes,
The soonest finds those hopes untrue;
As flowers that first
In spring-time burst
The earliest wither too!
Ay—'t is all but a dream, etc.

Tho' by friendship we oft are deceived,
And find love's sunshine soon o'ercast,
Yet friendship will still be believed.
And love trusted on to the last.
The web 'mong the leaves
The spider weaves

O Night divine, mother of all things fair,
Thou that dost know Love's revels—hear my prayer!
When Heliodora's arms that cozen sleep
In her warm couch their willing prisoner keep,
Do thou put out the light, while on her breast
Rocked like Endymion by a goddess' side I rest.

Love which is here a care,
That wit and will doth mar,
Uncertain truce, and a most certain war;
A shrill tempestuous wind,
Which doth disturb the mind,
And, like wild waves, all our designs commove;
Among those sprites above
Which see their Maker's face,
It a contentment is, a quiet peace,
A pleasure void of grief, a constant rest,
Eternal joy which nothing can molest.

They met in His name who to each loving heart
The life-giving word had once spoken;
The flow of whose peace in full many a soul
For long years had continued unbroken.

They met in His name, to renew every vow
Of love, and of earnest devotion
To God and his cause, till the hearts of all men
Are his own, on the land and the ocean.

They met; and the tide of their faith rose high,
As the songs of Zion sounded,
And ebbed no more through that evening hour,
For their love to God abounded.

They met; and my heart beat high with joy

My Muse in Meads has spent her many houres,
Sitting, and sorting severall sorts of flowers,
To make for others garlands; and to set
On many a head here, many a Coronet:
But, amongst All encircled here, not one
Gave her a day of Coronation;
Till you (sweet Mistresse) came and enterwove
A Laurel for her, (ever young as love)
You first of all crown'd her; she must of due,
Render for that, a crowne of life to you.

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit
Or wilt thou go ask the Mole?
Can wisdom be put in a silver rod,
Or love in a golden bowl?

Three days—three nights—with wondering ear
A spiritual voice I heard.
It caroled sweet, it caroled clear,
A strange unearthly Word.

Oh, solemn mirth! Oh, laughter deep!
It seemed a voice in my own breast.
Three days—three nights—it broke my sleep
And triumphed without any rest.

Passionate utterance! Speech divine!
It talked! It murmured! All night long
That mystic tenderness spoke on,
And pierced me with its Heavenly song.

Three days—three nights—I heard it sing,
The voice of that Interior Dove.
'Twas Love itself embraced my heart

We'll cover Love with roses,
And sweet sleep he shall take.
None but a fool supposes
Love always keeps awake.
I've known loves without number.
True loves were they, and tried;
And just for want of slumber
They pined away and died.

Our love was bright and cheerful
A little while agone;
Now he is pale and tearful,
And—yes, I've seen him yawn.
So tired is he of kisses
That he can only weep;
The one dear thing he misses
And longs for now is sleep.

We could not let him leave us
One time, he was so dear,