As morning hears before it
run
The music of the mounting
sun,
And laughs to watch his trophies
won
From darkness, and her hosts
undone,
And all the night becomes
a breath,
Nor dreams that fear should
hear and flee
The summer menace of the sea,
So hear our hope what life
may be,
And know it not for death.
—Algernon Charles Swinburne.
I came from God, and I’m
going back to God, and I won’t have any
gaps of death in the middle
of my life.
—George MacDonald.
The hope of the righteous
shall be gladness;
But the expectation of the
wicked shall perish.
—Proverbs 10. 28.
Lord God, teach me the way and show me the light of the eternal day; and may the vision fill my soul as I take courage and follow it. May I not be fearful of what may be provided, but remember that before the creation of life thou didst have a purpose in death. May I be trustful. Amen.
APRIL SIXTH
Albert Duerer died 1528.
James Mill born 1773.
Jean Baptiste Rousseau born 1669.
Even if the sacrifices which
are made to duty and virtue are painful
to make, they are well repaid
by the sweet recollections which they
leave at the bottom of the
heart.
—Jean B. Rousseau.
I am the man of a thousand
loves,
A thousand loves
have I;
And all my loves are white-winged
doves,
That into my soul
would fly.
I am the man of a thousand
friends
Of tuneful memory;
And each of them spends the
delicate ends
Of a brilliant
day with me.
And all my gifts are magical
words
That sing sweet
songs to me;
And the sensitive words are
caroling birds
In the garden
of imagery.
—Edwin Leibfreed.
Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life.
—Revelation 2. 10.
Loving Father, I bless thee for thy love and ministry. May I enter into a broader conception of sharing thy gifts. May I not seek thy blessings to keep, but to use for renewed inspiration. Amen.
APRIL SEVENTH
Saint Francis Xavier born 1506.
William Wordsworth born 1770.
William Ellery Channing born 1780.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the
sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow
old,
Or let me die!
The child is Father of the
Man;
And I could wish my days to
be
Bound each to each by natural
piety.
—William Wordsworth.