I Am Athirst For God, The Living

O Fateful Flower Beside The Rill- The Daffodil, The Daffodil!

Her Face Betokened All Things Dear And Good, The Light Of Somewhat Yet To Come Was There Asleep, And Waiting For The Opening Day, When Childish Thoughts, Like Flowers Would Drift Away.

We Wish For More In Life Rather Than More Of It.

I Am Athirst For God, The Living God.

When I Remember Something Which I Had, But Which Is Gone, And I Must Do Without, I Sometimes Wonder How I Can Be Glad, Even In Cowslip Time When Hedges Sprout; It Makes Me Sigh To Think On It,--but Yet My Days Will Not Be Better Days, Should I Forget.