John Keble

Sweet is the infant's waking smile,
And sweet the old man's rest--
But middle age by no read more

Sweet is the infant's waking smile,
And sweet the old man's rest--
But middle age by no fond wile,
No soothing calm is blest.

Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
To the inward ear devout,
Touched by light, with heavenly warning
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Soft as Memnon's harp at morning,
To the inward ear devout,
Touched by light, with heavenly warning
Your transporting chords ring out.
Every leaf in every nook,
Every wave in every brook,
Chanting with a solemn voice
Minds us of our better choice.

Pride of the dewy morning,
The swain's experienced eye
From thee takes timely warning.
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Pride of the dewy morning,
The swain's experienced eye
From thee takes timely warning.
Nor trusts the gorgeous sky.
- John Keble,

But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
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But when eve's silent footfall steals
Along the eastern sky,
And one by one to earth reveals
Those purer fires on high.

God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.

God hath sworn to lift on high
Who sinks himself by true humility.