Tag: Hope

Her Beautiful Dream

To dream the most lovely and precious of dreams– A vision of love and of life so dear,To travel a road that’s uncertain – full of strifeAnd bring beauty to life, make the unseen appearTo follow on a star only seen from afar And hope, when that hoped for is still out of sight,To love,…

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Longing

My heart is full of inarticulate pain,And beats laboriously. Ungenial looksInvade my sanctuary. Men of gain,Wise in success, well-read in feeble books,Do not come near me now, your air is drear;'Tis winter and low skies when ye appear.Beloved, who love beauty and love truth!Come round me; for too near ye cannot come;Make me an atmosphere…

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A Perfect Moment

It was Valentine’s Day, and I had woken up early. I had thought Hubby was up too, so I made us some coffee, but he had gone back to bed. So I had a little time to myself, which is always sweet. I love having a quiet moment of solitude in the morning, to pray,…

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The Inner Fire

Courage! for life is hasting
To endless life away;
The inner fire, unwasting,
Transfigures our dull clay
See the stars melting, sinking,
In life wine, golden bright
We, of the splendour drinking,
Shall grow to stars of light.

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A Friend

Yesterday I received flowers – a late birthday surprise from some kind friends. So sweet, thoughtful, and completely wonderful. The sweetness in another heart thinking of you brings in that sweet sting of the real somehow; it adds that little touch of magic that raises it higher, and makes it feel like the Heart of…

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Written For You

Precious Dear Heart, you walk all alone And on and on, and on you go, With your restless soul all but unknown And your heart full of tears and woe Yet still you go on in spite of the dark Hoping inside that someday you’ll find, Amid all the spaces that cover this earth A…

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The Mortal Answers

“…Come away—With the fairies, hand in hand, For the world is more full of weeping Than you can understand.” —WB Yeats   Chesterton, with the answer of Elf-land: From the Wood of the Old Wives’ Fables They glittered out of the grey, And with all the Armies of Elf-land I strove like a beast at…

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Joy the Last

From a letter to his father, on June 3, 1855: How does dear mother bear it? It must be a dreadful trial to her. Life grows so sad sometimes — “but there is the one who makes the joy the last in every song” and no trial is too sad which makes us look more…

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