So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn Which once he wore; The glory from his gray hairs gone For evermore!
Oh, for boyhood's painless play, sleep that wakes in laughing day, health that mocks the doctor's rules, knowledge never learned of schools.
What is good looking, as Horace Smith remarks, but looking good? Be good, be womanly, be gentle,-generous in your sympathies, heedful of the well-being of all around you; and, my word for it, you will not lack kind words of admiration.
The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
Thanks to Allah, who gives the palm!
Every chain that spirits wear crumbles in the breadth of prayer.
God blesses still the generous thought,And still the fitting word He speeds,And Truth, at His requiring taught,He quickens into deeds.
So all night long the storm roared on: The morning broke without a sun; In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Natureâ€™s geometric signs, In starry flake, and pellicle, All day the hoary meteor fell; And, when the second morning shone, We looked upon a world unknown, On nothing we could call our own
For still in mutual sufferance liesThe secret of true living;Love scarce is love that never knowsThe sweetness of forgiving.
God should be most where man is least: So, where is neither church nor priest, And never rag nor form of creed To clothe the nakedness of need,- Where farmer folk in silence meet,- I turn my bell-unsummoned feet; I lay the critic's glass aside, I tread upon my lettered pride, And, lowest-seated, tes
All the windows of my heart I open to the day.
The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.
Truth should be the first lesson of the child and the last aspiration of manhood; for it has been well said that the inquiry of truth, which is the love-making of it, the knowledge of truth, which is the presence of it, and the belief of truth, which is the enjoying of it, is the sovereign good of h
There's life alone in duty done, And rest alone in striving.
Small leisure have the poor for grief.
I'll lift you and you lift me, and we'll both ascend together. John Greenleaf Whit
The continuity of life is never broken; the river flows onward and is lost to our sight, but under its new horizon it carries the same waters which it gathered under ours, and its unseen valleys are made glad by the offerings which are borne down to them from the past,--flowers, perchance, the germs
All the windows of my heart I open to the day. John Greenleaf Whittier
Sweeter than any sungMy songs that found no tongue;Nobler than any factMy wish that failed of act.Others shall sing the song,Others shall right the wrong,-Finish what I begin,And all I fail of win.
Peace hath higher tests of manhood, than battle ever knew.
A little smile, a word of cheer, A bit of love from someone near, A little gift from one held dear, Best wishes for the coming year. These make a merry christmas!
Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
We search the world for truth; we cull The good, the pure, the beautiful, From all old flower fields of the soul; And, weary seeker of the best, We come back laden from out quest, To find that all the sages said Is in the Book our mothers read.
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
The great eventful Present hides the Past; but through the din Of its loud life hints and echoes from the life behind steal in.
I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care.
Along the river's summer walk,The withered tufts of asters nod;And trembles on its arid stalkthe hoar plum of the golden-rod.
A grateful loving heart carries with it, under every parallel of latitude, the warmth and light of the tropics. It plants its Eden in the wilderness and solitary place, and sows with flowers the gray desolation of rock and mosses.
Waking or sleeping, I see a wreck,And hear a cry from a reeling deck!
In kindly showers and sunshine bud The branches of the dull gray wood; Out from its sunned and sheltered nooks The blue eye of the violet looks.