IS gone, that bright and orbèd blaze,
Fast fading from our wistful gaze;
Yon mantling cloud has hid from sight
The last faint pulse of quivering light.

In darkness and in weariness

The traveller on his way must press,
No gleam to watch on tree or tower,
Whiling away the lonesome hour.

Sun of my soul! Thou Saviour dear,
It is not night if Thou be near :
Oh! may no earth-born cloud arise
To hide Thee from Thy servant's eyes.

When round Thy wondrous works below
My searching rapturous glance I throw,
Tracing out wisdom, power, and love,
In earth or sky, in stream or grove;

Glorious was that primeval light

Go when the morning shineth

God be with thee, my beloved, God be with thee!

God doth not leave His own...

God moves in a mysterious way

Gracious Spirit, dwell with me

Hail to the Lord's anointed
Half feeling our own weakness
Hast thou not seen at break of day
Heavenward doth our journey tend
Holy Saviour, Friend unseen
Hues of the rich unfolding morn

I am old and blind

I have a wondrous house to build

I heard the voice of Jesus say

I hoped that with the brave and strong

I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls

In silence mighty things are wrought

In the mid silence of the voiceless night

I shine in the light of God

It came upon the midnight clear

It is a place where poets crowned may feel the heart's decaying ...