Oh, there at last, life's trials past, / We'll meet our loved ones more, / Whose feet have trod the path to God, -- / Not lost, but gone before.
All our calm is in that balm - Not lost but gone before.
God made all pleasures innocent.
I do not ask for my rights. I have no rights. I have only wrongs.
We have been friends together In sunshine and in shade.
A woman's suffering is never above half known, for the fact of the publicity of her wrongs is counted to her for disgrace.
A child's eyes, those clear wells of undefiled thoughtÂ—what on earth can be more beautiful? Full of hope, love and curiosity, they meet your own.
I am listening for the voices Which I heard in days of old.
They serve God well, who serve his creatures.
A soldier of the Legion lay dying in Algiers, There was a lack of woman's nursing, there was dearth of woman's tears; But a comrade stood beside him, while his lifeblood ebbed away.
O Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams.
Child murderers practice their profession without let or hindrance, and open infant butcheries unquestioned...Is there no remedy for all this ante-natal child murder?
Perhaps there will come a time when... an unmarried mother will not be despised because of her motherhood... and when the right of the unborn to be born will not be denied or interfered with.
Every poet hopes that after-times Shall set some value on his votive lay.
Of all the joys that lighten suffering earth, what joy is welcomed like a new born child?
Old Time, who changes all below, To wean men gently for the grave.
Until I truly loved, I was alone.
For death and life, in ceaseless strife, Beat wild on this world's shore, And all our calm is in that balmâ€” Not lost but gone before.
Nature, as it grows again toward earth, is fashioned for the journey, dull and heavy.
There's not a note of mine that's worth the noting. William Shakesp
Let each man do his best.
Say, what abridgement have you for this evening?What masque, what music? How shall we beguileThe lazy time if not with some delight?
Thou call'st me dog before thou hadst a cause, But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
The king-becoming graces,As justice, verity, temp'rance, stableness,Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,I have no relish of them, but aboundIn the division of each several crime,Acting in many ways.
To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed,Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn'd In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three
O madam, my old heart is cracked, it's cracked!
The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens.
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
There is a history in all men's lives.
Absence doth sharpen love, presence strengthens it; the one brings fuel, the other blows it till it burns clear.
What is a man, if his chief good and market of his time be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more. Sure he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused.
The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones. William Shakesp
Fairies, black, grey, green, and white,You moonshine revellers, and shades of night,You orphan heirs of fixed destiny,Attend your office and your quality.
These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights, that give a name to every fixed star, have no more profit of their shining nights than those that walk and know not what they are.
Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
Knit your hearts with an unslipping knot.
Virtue preserv'd from fell destruction's blast,Led on by heaven, and crown'd with joy at last.
He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause.