THE MOST EXTENSIVE
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A poor man serv'd by thee, shall make thee rich.
- [Benevolence : Charity]
A woman's always younger than a man of equal years.
A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad.
All are not taken! there are left behind
Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring,
And make the daylight still a happy thing,
And tender voices, to make soft the wind.
And I said in underbreath--
All our life is mixed with death,--
And who knoweth which is best?
And I smiled to think God's greatness
Flowed around our incompleteness,--
Round our restlessness, His rest.
And we talk'd--oh, how we talk'd! her voice so cadenc'd in the talking,
Made another singing--of the soul! a music without bars--
While the leafy sounds of woodlands, humming round where we were walking,
Brought interposition worthy--sweet,--as skies about the stars,
And she spake such good thoughts natural, as if she always thought them.
And when a woman says she loves a man, the man must hear her, though he love her not.
Beloved, let us love so well,
Our work shall still be better for our love,
And still our love be sweeter for our work,
And both, commended, for the sake of each,
By all true workers and true lovers born.
Books are men of higher stature, and the only men that speak aloud for future times to hear.
By your truth she shall be true--
Ever true as wives of yore--
And her Yes, once said to you,
Shall be yes for evermore.
Cloud-walls of the morning's gray
Faced with amber column,
Crowned with crimson cupola
From a sunset solemn.
May-mists, for the casements, fetch,
Pale and glimmering,
With a sunbeam hid in each,
And a smell of spring.
Death upon his face
Is rather shine than shade,
A tender shine by looks beloved made.
Earth may embitter, not remove,
The love divinely given;
And e'en that mortal grief shall prove
The immortality of love,
And lead us nearer heaven.
Every wish is like a prayer to God.
Eyes which the preacher could not school,
By wayside graves are raised; And lips say, "God be pitiful,"
That ne'er said "God be praised."
Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
For me, my heart, that erst did go
Most like a tired child at a show,
That sees through tears the mummers leap,
Would now its wearied vision close,
Would childlike on His love repose,
Who giveth His Beloved, sleep.
Get work. Be sure it is better than what you work to get.
God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, to wrestle not to reign.
He said true things, but called them by wrong names.
He smiled as men smile when they will not speak, because of something bitter in the thought.
Her deep blue eyes smile constantly, as if they had by fitness won the secret of a happy dream she does not care to speak.
I work with patience, which is almost power.
If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
In our age faith and charity are found, but they are found apart. We tolerate everybody, because we doubt everything; or else we tolerate nobody, because we believe something.
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