THOU HAST given us to live. Let us uphold this honour with all our strength and will; For thy glory rests upon the glory that we are. Therefore in thy name we oppose the power that would plant its banner upon our soul. Let us know that thy light grows dim in the heart that bears its insult of bondage. That the life, when it becomes feeble, timidly yields thy throne to untruth. For weakness is the traitor who betrays our soul. Let this be our prayer to thee Give us power to resist pleasure where it enslaves us. To lift our sorrow up to thee as the summer holds its midday sun. Make us strong that our worship may flower in love, and bear fruit in work. Make us strong that we may not insult the weak and the fallen, That we may hold our love high where all things around us are wooing the dust. They fight and kill for self-love, giving it thy name. They fight for hunger that thrives on brothers' flesh, They fight against thine anger and die. But let us stand firm and suffer with strength for the True, for the Good, for the Eternal in man, for thy Kingdom which is in the union of hearts, for the freedom which is of the Soul.
THE SLEEP THAT flits on baby's eyes-does anybody know from where it comes? Yes, there is a rumour that it has its dwelling where, in the fairy village among shadows of the forest dimly lit with glow-worms, there hang two shy buds of enchantment. From there it comes to kiss baby's eyes. The smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps-does anybody know where it was born? Yes, there is a rumour that a young pale beam of a crescent moon touched the edge of a vanishing autumn cloud, and there the smile was first born in the dream of a dew-washed morning- the smile that flickers on baby's lips when he sleeps. The sweet, soft freshness that blooms on baby's limbs-does anybody know where it was hidden so long? Yes, when the mother was a young girl it lay pervading her heart in tender and silent mystery of love-the sweet, soft freshness that has bloomed on baby's lips.
