“Thee, Son Beloved! of plural Unity Essential part, made flesh that mad’st all worlds.”

Be every bar, and every star, Displayed in full and glorious manner! Blow, zephyrs, blow, keep the dear ensign flying! Blow, zephyrs, sweetly mournful, sighing, sighing, sighing!

Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name?

We hail the return of the day of thy birth, Fair Columbia! washed by the waves of two oceans Where men from the farthest dominions of earth Rear altars to Freedom, and pay their devotions;

True love is humble, thereby is it known; Girded for service, seeking not its own; Vaunts not itself, but speaks in self-dispraise.

With dazzling pomp descending angels sung Good will and peace to men, to God due praise, Who on the errand of salvation sent

Fling out, fling out, with cheer and shout, To all the winds of Our Country’s Banner!

The power, which in a sense belongs to none, Thus understood belongs to every one.

Death separates, but it also unites. It reunites whom it separates.

Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight

Words are freeborn, and not the vassals of the gruff tyrants of prose to do their bidding only. They have the same right to dance and sing as the dewdrops have to sparkle and the stars to shine.

Let us not doubt that God has a father’s pity towards us, and that in the removal of that which is dearest to us He is still loving and kind.

Poetry is unfallen speech. Paradise knew no other, for no other would suffice to answer the need of those ecstatic days of innocence.

O most illustrious of the days of time! Day full of joy and benison to earth When Thou wast born, sweet Babe of Bethlehem!

He dares confront the time, And speak the truth, and give the world no rest No kingly threat can cowardize his breath, He with majestic step goes forth to meet his death.

No counter proof can equal the force of that drawn from His attributes. It is an indecency and a calumny to impute to Christ conduct which requires apology.

Eternity! How know we but we stand On the precipitous and crumbling verge Of Time e’en now, Eternity below?

The beloved fears and hates the lover, and with the best of reasons. For the lover is forever trying to strip bare his beloved.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that is the inheritor of our fear. Let him not love the earth too deeply… For fear will rob him of all if he gives too much.

Cry, the beloved country, for the unborn child that’s the inheritor of our fear.

Cry, the beloved country, these things are not yet at an end.

They were soon to emigrate to Canada, and the aerial ride was meant to be a last view of their beloved England.

I’m my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

If you wish to find Love, don’t look for the object of love but rather for the source of love. There you will find the Beloved.

In mutual love the lover not only wants the happiness of his beloved; but has an eye towards his own happiness also.