Charles Kingsley

The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and read more

The western tide crept up along the sand,
And o'er and o'er the sand,
And round and round the sand,
As far as eye could see
The rolling mist came down and hid the land:
And never home came she.

Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
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Tho' we earn our bread, Tom,
By the dirty pen,
What we can we will be,
Honest Englishmen.
Do the work that's nearest
Though it's dull at whiles,
Helping, when we meet them,
Lame dogs over stiles.

See the land, her Easter keeping, Rises as her Maker rose. Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping, Burst at last read more

See the land, her Easter keeping, Rises as her Maker rose. Seeds, so long in darkness sleeping, Burst at last from winter snows. Earth with heaven above rejoices...

We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make read more

We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about.

When two friends understand each other totally, the words are soft and strong like an orchid's perfume

When two friends understand each other totally, the words are soft and strong like an orchid's perfume