May 2nd. THERE'S not a flower of spring, WE know in daytime there are stars about us, May 3rd. NOT for thee the dull jar of the loom and the wheel, But that old voice of waters, of bird and of breeze, Go thither still, go the same way you went, May 4th. SHE hath a natural wise sincerity, A simple truthfulness, and these have lent her So that no influence of earth can stir Her steadfast courage, nor can take away E. B. Browning. Philip James Bailey. Whittier. John Donne The holy peacefulness, which night and day, Lowell. THERE is Heaven, since there is Heaven's similitude earth. Robert Browning. May 5th. MAY he live Longer than I have time to tell his years, Ever beloved and loving! AND now when I to thought recall My heart's best treasures, one and all, One less below, one more above; And know that to my charge was sent, With gracious and benign intent, A saintly soul, to whom 'twas given Shakespeare. To draw me in her wake toward Heaven. John Moultrie. NEAR thee, still near thee! o'er thy pathway gliding, Unseen I pass thee, with the wind's low sigh; Yet viewless love floats round thee silently! May 6th. CLOUDLESS for ever is her brow serene, Speaking calm hope and trust within her, whence Welleth a noiseless spring of patience, That keepeth all her life so fresh, so green The greatness of her woman's soul revealing, COMPANIONS have I many; many friends, Mrs. Hemans. Lowell. Wordsworth. May 7th. NEVER mind myself: What I am, what I am not, in the eye Robert Browning. He was a scholar, and a ripe and good one, G May 8th. THY fate is the common fate of all; Some days must be dark and dreary. Long fellow. To one who has been long in city pent, 'Tis very sweet to look into the fair And open face of Heaven,-to breathe a prayer Keats. May 9th. HE sought not praise, and praise did overlook His unobtrusive merit; but his life, Sweet to himself, was exercised in good, Wordsworth, FOR to the time when life shall pass away From this dear heart, no fear of death or shame, William Morris. May 10th. COULD we but think with the intensity We love with, one might do great things, I think. Philip James Bailey. ONE praised her ankles, one her eyes, Tennyson. LOVE must be still our master; till we learn Oliver W. Holmes. |