The steadfast coursing of the stars,
The waves that ripple to the shore, The vigorous trees which year by year Spread upwards more and more; The jewel forming in the mine, The snow that falls so soft and light, The rising and the setting sun, The growing glooms of night; All natural things both live and move In natural peace that is their own; Only in our disordered life Almost is she unknown. - Bessie Rayner Parkes |