Ay, call it holy ground, The soil where first they trod, They have left unstained, what there they found,- Freedom to worship God. — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
There is strength deep bedded in our hearts, of which we reck but little till the shafts of heaven have pierced its fragile dwelling. Must not earth be rent before her gems are found? — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
The opening and the folding flowers, that laugh to the summer's day. — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
Christ hath arisen! O mountain peaks, attest- Witness, resounding glen and torrent wave! The immortal courage in the human breast Sprung from that victory-tell… — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
I had a hat. It was not all a hat,-Part of the brim was gone:Yet still I wore it on. — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
Oh! lovely voices of the sky Which hymned the Saviour's birth, Are ye not singing still on high, Ye that sang, "Peace on earth"? — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
Is it where the flow'r of the orange blows, And the fireflies dance thro' the myrtle boughs? — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
A passion for flowers, is, I think, the only one which long sickness leaves untouched with its chilling influence. — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
Gird your hearts with silent fortitude, Suffering, yet hoping all things. — Felicia Hemans Copy Share Image
