Buddha at Kamakura

O ye who tread the Narrow WayBy Tophet-flare to Judgment Day,Be gentle when "the heathen" pray To Buddha at Kamakura!To him the Way, the Law, apart,Whom Maya held beneath her heart,Ananda's Lord, the Bodhisat, The Buddha of Kamakura.For though he neither burns nor sees,Nor hears ye thank your Deities,Ye have not sinned with such as these, His children at Kamakura,Yet spare us still the Western

The Children's Song

Puck of Pook's Hills

Land of our Birth, we pledge to thee
Our love and toil in the years to be;
When we are grown and take our place
As men and women with our race.

Father in Heaven who lovest all,
Oh, help Thy children when they call;
That they may build from age to age
An undefiled heritage.

Teach us to bear the yoke in youth,
With steadfastness and careful truth;
That, in our time, Thy

Harp Song of the Dane Women

What is a woman that you forsake her,And the hearth-fire and the home-acre,To go with the old grey Widow-maker?She has no house to lay a guest in--But one chill bed for all to rest in,That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in.She has no strong white arms to fold you,But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you--Out on the rocks where the tide has rolled you.Yet, when the signs of summer