The Red Sahara In An Angry Glow,

O Woman! Thou Wert Fashioned To Beguile: So Have All Sages Said, All Poets Sung.

Man Is The Miracle In Nature. God Is The One Miracle To Man. Behold, "there Is A God," Thou Sayest. Thou Sayest Well: In That Thou Sayest All. To Be Is More Of Wonderful, Than Being, To Have Wrought, Or Reigned, Or Rested.

A Birthday:-and Now A Day That Rose With Much Of Hope, With Meaning Rife- A Thoughtful Day From Dawn To Close: The Middle Day Of Human Life.

Work Is Its Own Best Earthly Meed, Else Have We None More Than The Sea-born Throng Who Wrought Those Marvellous Isles That Bloom Afar.

What Is Thy Thought? There Is No Miracle? There Is A Great One, Which Thou Hast Not Read, And Never Shalt Escape. Thyself, O Man, Thou Art The Miracle. Ay, Thou Thyself, Being In The World And Of The World, Thyself, Hast Breathed In Breath From Him That Made The World. Thou Art Thy Father's Copy Of Himself,-- Thou Art Thy Father's Miracle.