John Keble

We cannot pass our guardian angel's bounds, resigned or sullen, he will hear our sighs.

— John Keble

The watchful mother tarries nigh, though sleep has closed her infants eyes.

— John Keble

Enthroned in thy sovereign sphere Thou shedd'st thy light on all the year: Sundays by thee more glorious break, An Easter Day in every week: And week-days, following in their train, The fulness of thy blessing gain, Till all, both resting and employ, Be one Lord's day of holy joy.

— John Keble

Then cheerly to your work again With hearts new-brac'd and set To run, untir'd, love's blesse'd race, As meet for those, who face to face Over the grave their Lord have met.

— John Keble

A few calm words of faith and prayer, A few bright drops of holy dew, Shall work a wonder there Earth's charmers never knew.

— John Keble