Every breath of air and ray of light and heat, every beautiful prospect, is, as it were, the skirts of the (angel’s) garments, the waving robes of those whose faces see God.
Dear Lord…shine through me, and be so in me that every soul I come in contact with may feel Your presence in my soul…Let me thus praise You in the way You love best, by shining on those around me.
There is in stillness oft a magic power To calm the breast when struggling passions lower, Touched by its influence, in the soul arise Diviner feelings, kindred with the skies.
