The heart is but a narrow The heavens declare the glory The littlest door, the inner The little toy dog is covered The Lord is my shepherd; The native drama's sick and The poet's song, the painter's The quality of mercy is not The rich man has his motor- The Saviour came. With trem- The soldier fought his battle The week had gloomily begun The world is so full of a num- The world is too much with us; late and soon, The year's at the spring, Therefore, my friends. I say There is no escape by the There is a pleasure in the path- |