And now, as we gaze from our star-crowned sphere
To the shadows, where earth is seeming,
We know that that hazy circling sphere
Was only a sinner's dreaming!
Woman
When God made woman
Fair He made her, as the rose;
Her face upturned to catch His radiant smile;
His sunbeams lurked the while
About her lips; with care He chose
Her hair and glory, and her round white throat,
The pillared keeper of her woman's note.
God filled her eyes with innocence and love,
And glimpsing lights from out His skies above.
The Father knew that she was beautiful.
And yet, to make her nobly dutiful
To Him, within her breast
He set a shrine, all holy and possessed
In shining mystery. And few who know
To enter in. The evading flame aglow
That fills the shrine, is white as unshed snow.
And deep within that casket of her breast
Are secret joys, to God alone confessed.
Christmas
White the weather, white the weather!
Stars and ice at one together,
Shining frost on cracking branches,
Snow in pale smooth avalanches.
White the weather, wintry weather.
Wan the way, where once the heather
Bloomed in radiant summer weather,
Sparkling icicles moon-lustred
Droop, where once the green leaves clustered.
Life is sleeping, held in tether.