He that would earn the Poet's sacred name, Must write for future as for present ages. — Christopher Pearse Cranch Age Copy Share Image
Beautiful and rare Aurora, In the heavens thou art their Flora — Christopher Pearse Cranch Art Copy Share Image
December drops no weak, relenting tear, By our fond summer sympathies ensnared; Nor from the perfect circle of the year Can even… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Christmas Copy Share Image
I become more and more inclined to sink the minister in the man, and abandon my present calling in toto as a… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Copy Share Image
O Light divine! we need no fuller test That all is ordered well; We know enough to trust that all is best… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Divine Copy Share Image
We are spirits clad in veils; Man by man was never seen; All our deep communing fails To remove the shadowy screen. — Christopher Pearse Cranch Copy Share Image
No night so wild but brings the constant sun With love and power untold; No time so dark but through its woof… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Blessed Copy Share Image
Thought is deeper than all speech, Feeling deeper than all thought; Souls to souls can never teach What unto themselves was taught. — Christopher Pearse Cranch Communication Copy Share Image
But now I rejoice when, in my winter studio, I can spread out my summer studies and recall through them the beautiful… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Artist Copy Share Image
I wonder now if you ever remember... Whether your June is all turned to December... Gone are those winters of chats and… — Christopher Pearse Cranch Annoyance Copy Share Image
