How many plants, we call them weeds
How wearily and drearily

I cannot plainly see the way

I do not think of thee, beloved

I heard the wavelet kiss the shore

I mourn no more my vanished years

I sing to my mate

I slept and dreamt that life was beauty

In every object here 1 see

In every season

In God's great field of labour

In the trials to be suffered

In silence mighty things are wrought
It remaineth, it remaineth

It waved not through an eastern sky

Jesu, bless our slender boat

Like to the falling of a star
Life is a handbreadth

Light be the turf above thee

Listen, darling, and tell to me
Lo, the lilies of the field

Lord, I have toiled all night.

Lord, lead the way

Lord, who ordainest for mankind

Lost! lost! lost!

Mark the golden grains

Mary would like to be a bird
'Mid the mad whirl of life
Mountain gorses, ever golden
My blessing on you, little babes
My task is o'er, my work is done
My wife contrived a fleecy thing

Nature in every form is lovely still
No bird-song floated down the hill
Never hasting, never resting

O born beneath the March winds keen.

O righteous doom that they

rose of Sharon

Oh, how could fancy crown with thee
Oh, ever thus from childhood's hour
Oft had I prayed

Order is heaven's first law

Passing away, sing the breeze and the rill
Play thy part, and play it well