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A silence, the brief Sabbath of an hour, Reigns o'er the fields; the laborer sits within His dwelling; he has left his steers awhile, Unyoked, to bite the herbage, and his dog Sleeps stretched beside the door-stone in the shade. Now the gray marmot, with uplifted paws, No more sits listening by his den, but steals Abroad, in safety, to the clover-field, And crops its juicy-blossoms. - [Noontime] Ah, never shall the land forget How gush'd the life-blood of the brave, Gush'd warm with hope and courage yet, Upon the soil they fought to save! - [Courage] Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month! in praise of thee; Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring, And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring. - [March] All things that are on earth shall wholly pass away, Except the love of God, which shall live and last for aye. - [God] Approach thy grave like one that wraps the drapery of his couch about him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. - [Death] Autumn is here; we cull his lingering flowers. * * * * * The sweet calm sunshine of October, now Warms the low spot; upon its grass mould The purple oak-leaf falls; the birchen bough Drops its bright spoil like arrow-heads of gold. - [October] By eloquence I understand those appeals to our moral perceptions that produce emotion as soon as they are uttered. * * * This is the very enthusiasm that is the parent of poetry. Let the same man go to his closet and clothe in numbers conceptions full of the same fire and spirit, and they will be poetry. - [Eloquence] Death should come Gently to one of gentle mould, like thee, As light winds, wandering through groves of bloom, Detach the delicate blossoms from the tree, Close thy sweet eyes calmly, and without pain, And we will trust in God to see thee yet again. - [Death] Eloquence is the poetry of prose. - [Eloquence] Error's monstrous shapes from earth are driven They fade, they fly--but truth survives the flight. - [Error] Fairest of all that earth beholds, the hues That live among the clouds, and flush the air, Lingering, and deepening at the hour of dews. - [Evening] Features, the great soul's apparent seat. - [Face] Features--the great soul's apparent seat. - [Features] Flowers spring up unsown and die ungathered. - [Flowers] Follow thou thy choice. - [Choice] Genius, with all its pride in its own strength, is but a dependent quality, and cannot put forth its whole powers nor claim all its honors without an amount of aid from the talents and labors of others which it is difficult to calculate. - [Genius] God hath yoked to guilt her pale tormentor,--misery. - [Guilt] Hark to that shrill, sudden shout, The cry of an applauding multitude, Swayed by some loud-voiced orator who wields The living mass as if he were its soul! - [Oratory] Hateful to me as are the gates of hell is he who, hiding one thing in his heart, utters another. - [Deceit] Much has seen said of the wisdom of old age. Old age is wise, I grant, for itself, but not wise for the community. It is wise in declining new enterprises, for it has not the power nor the time to execute them; wise in shrinking from difficulty, for it has not the strength to overcome it; wise in avoiding danger, for it lacks the faculty of ready and swift action, by which dangers are parried and converted into advantages. But this is not wisdom for mankind at large, by whom new enterprises must be undertaken, dangers met, and difficulties surmounted. - [Old Age] Music is not merely a study, it is an entertainment; wherever there is music there is a throng of listeners. - [Music] No man of woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny. - [Destiny] Oh, Freedom! thou art not, as poets dream, A fair young girl, with light and delicate limbs, And wavy tresses gushing from the cap With which the Roman master crowned his slave When he took off the gyves. A bearded man Armed to the teeth, art thou; one mailed hand Grasps the broad shield, and one the sword; thy brow, Glorious in beauty though it be, is scarred With tokens of old wars. - [Freedom] Oh; not yet May'st thou unbrace thy corslet, nor lay by Thy sword, nor yet, O Freedom! close thy lids In slumber; for thine enemy never sleeps. And thou must watch and combat, till the day Of the new earth and heaven. - [Freedom] Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste. - [Ocean] Displaying page 1 of 5 for this author: Next >> [1] 2 3 4 5
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