March 19

THEY are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit lingering here;
Their very memory is fair and bright,
And my sad thoughts doth clear.
Henry Vaughan


WHILE we poor wayfarers still toil, with hot and bleeding feet, along the highway and the dust of life, our companions have but mounted the divergent path, to explore the more sacred streams, and visit the diviner vales, and wander amid the everlasting Alps, of God’s upper province of creation. Death, in short, under the Christian aspect, is but God’s method of colonization; the transition from this mother-country of our race to the fairer and newer world of our emigration.
James Martineau


O ELOQUENT, just and mighty Death! whom none could advise, thou hast persuaded; what none hath dared, thou hast done; and whom all the world hath flattered, thou only hast cast out of the world and despised: thou hast drawn together all the far-stretched greatness, all the pride, cruelty and ambition of man, and covered it all over with these two narrow words, Hie jacet!

Sir Walter Raleigh

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December 16

GIVE me my scallop-shell of quiet,
My staff of faith to walk upon;
My scrip of joy, immortal diet;
My bottle of salvation;
My gown of glory, hope’s true gage,
And thus I’ll take my pilgrimage.
Sir Walter Raleigh


WE should all endeavour and labour for a calmer spirit, that we may the better serve God in praying to Him and praising Him; and serve one another in love, that we may be fitted to do and receive good; that we may make our passage to heaven more easy and cheerful, without drooping and hanging the wing. So much as we are quiet and cheerful upon good ground, so much we live, and are, as it were, in heaven.
Richard Sibbes


BLESS me in this life with but peace of my conscience, command of my affections, the love of Thy self and my dearest friends, and I shall be happy enough to pity Caesar.
Sir Thomas Browne


WE complain of the want of many things – we want votes, we want liberty, we want amusement, we want money. Which of us feels or knows that he wants peace?
John Ruskin