“Seated one day at the organ”

Joy is like restless day; but peace divine like quiet night.

Each man has some part to play.

To listen to Earth’s weary voices Louder every day Bidding her no longer linger

One by one the sands are flowing

Be strong, O Heart of mine, Look towards the light!

I was weary and ill at ease, and my fingers wandered idly over the noisy keys.

One by one bright gifts from heaven Joys are sent thee here below

Lead me, O Lord, till perfect Day shall shine through Peace to Light.

I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be a pleasant road.

For when the horse and ass begin to think and argue, adieu to riding and driving.

Words are mighty, words are living:Serpents with their venomous stings,Or bright angels, crowding round us

Hark! the hours are softly calling Bidding Spring arise To listen to the rain-drops falling From the cloudy skies

I know too well the poison and the sting of things too sweet.

Dreams grow holy put in action.

Have we not all, amid life’s petty strife

Do not strive to grasp them all.

So he asked the Iranians to come in and help.

The most important thing in your life is not what you do; it’s who you become. That’s what you will take into eternity.

Although my father is English, I was brought up in Australia.

But I don’t believe it comes at the expense of the Middle East.

Some nights the painful past unexpectedly pushes up through the floorboards like an ugly nightmarish weed, and by doing so

Some pure ideal of a noble life That once seemed possible?

Kinds hearts are here; yet would the tenderest one Have limits to its mercy; God has none.

The Iranians should just stay away from us.