Remarks on Ethel Churchill

"In works of love, and these alone,How restless, how minute,"

"Then hushed be every thought that springsFrom out the bitterness of things,—Her quiet is secure;No thorns can pierce her tender feet,Whose life was like the violet sweet,And like the jasmine pure.Her nature to its inmost partHad faith refined, and to her heartA peaceful cradle given,—Calm as the dew-drop's, free to restWithin a breeze-fanned rose's breast,Till it exhales to heaven."Wordsworth.

'For inspiration round his head,The goddess Want her pinions spread,'