Susanna Cocroft

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Page 151 - Oh may I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self, In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues. So to live is heaven : To make undying music in the world, Breathing as beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man.
Page 107 - Ascendeth to God night and day. * In the hush of the Valley of Silence I dream all the songs that I sing ; And the music floats down the dim Valley, Till each finds a word for a wing, That to hearts, like the Dove of the Deluge, A message of Peace they may bring.
Page 1 - This is life to come, Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to follow. May I reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous...
Page 152 - Breathing as beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man. So we inherit that sweet purity For which we struggled, failed, and agonized With widening retrospect that bred despair. Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued, A vicious parent shaming still its child Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved; Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies, Die in the large and charitable air. And all our rarer, better, truer self, That sobbed religiously in yearning song, That...
Page 107 - But far on the deep there are billows That never shall break on the beach ; And I have heard songs in the silence That never shall float into speech, And I have had dreams in the valley Too lofty for language to reach.
Page 79 - So take Joy home, And make a place in thy great heart for her, And give her time to grow, and cherish her; Then will she come, and oft will sing to thee, When thou art working in the furrows; ay, Or weeding in the sacred hour of dawn. It is a comely fashion to be glad, — Joy is the grace we say to God.
Page 107 - I have had dreams in the Valley Too lofty for language to reach. And I have seen Thoughts in the Valley — Ah! me, how my spirit was stirred! And they wear holy veils on their faces, Their footsteps can scarcely be heard: They pass through the Valley like Virgins, Too pure for the touch of a word ! Do you ask me the place of the Valley, Ye hearts that are harrowed by Care? It lieth afar between mountains, And God and His angels are there: And one is the dark mount of Sorrow, And one the bright mountain...
Page 106 - I WALK down the Valley of Silence — Down the dim, voiceless valley — alone! And I hear not the fall of a footstep Around me, save God's and my own; And the hush of my heart is as holy As hovers where angels have flown!
Page 152 - In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues. So to live is heaven : To make undying music in the world, Breathing as beauteous order that controls With growing sway the growing life of man. So we inherit that sweet purity For which we struggled, failed, and agonized With widening retrospect that bred despair.

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