Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, / Beneath the good how far - but far above the great.
Alas, regardless of their doom, the little victims play! No sense have they of ills to come nor care beyond today.
Hell is full of good intentions.
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, he had not the method of making a fortune.
Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise. Thomas Gra
Low on his funeral couch he lies!
Th' applause of listening senates to command, / The threats of pain and ruin to despise,/ To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, / And read their history in a nation's eyes.
Behind the steps that Misery treads Approaching Comfort view: The hues of bliss more brightly glow Chastised by sabler tints of woe, And blended form, with artful strife, The strength and harmony of life.
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
Too poor for a bribe, and too proud to importune, he had not the method of making a fortune. Thomas Gra
In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.
Visions of glory, spare my aching sight! Ye unborn ages, crowd not on my soul!
And weep the more, because I weep in vain.
The war was over, ... They were defeated by the time he dropped those bombs -- I think he wanted to know whether they would work. And I think Truman was the kind of guy when he disliked you, he disliked you with a passion.
Any fool may write a most valuable book by chance, if he will only tell us what he heard and saw with veracity.
Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learn'd to stray; Along the cool sequester'd vale of life They kept the noiseless tenor of their way.
Hands, that the rod of empire might have swayed, / Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.
Youth smiles without any reason. It is one of its chiefest charms.
To brisk notes in cadence beating, glance their many-twinkling feet.
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
We've got 10 seniors starting on the offense, and I'm the only junior, so I was a little nervous before the game. But I got comfortable after the first drive and we played well.
To each his suff'rings: all are men, / Condemn'd alike to groan, / The tender for another's pain; / Th' unfeeling for his own.
O'er her warm cheek, and rising bosom, moveThe bloom of young Desire and purple light of love.
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.
Ah, tell them they are men!
Ruin seize thee, ruthless King! / Confusion on thy banners wait; / Though fanned by Conquest's crimson wing, / They mock the air with idle state.
For who, to dumb forgetfulness a prey, This pleasing anxious being e'er resign'd, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing ling'ring look behind?
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air