THE MOST EXTENSIVE
ON THE INTERNET
The starlight of the brain.
The taste forever refines in the study of women.
The value of life deepens incalculably with the privileges of travel.
There is a gentle element, and man may breathe it with a calm, unruffled soul, and drink its living waters, till his heart is pure; and this is human happiness.
There is no divining-rod whose dip shall tell us at twenty what we shall most relish at thirty.
There is to me a daintiness about early flowers that touches me like poetry. They blow out with such a simple loveliness among the common herbs of pastures, and breathe their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts whose beatings are too gentle for the world.
Vulgarity is more obvious in satin than in homespun.
We may believe that we shall know each other's forms hereafter; and in the bright fields of the better land call the lost dead to us.
What is ambition? It is a glorious cheat! Angels of light walk not so dazzlingly the sapphire walls of heaven.
Wisdom, sits alone, topmost in heaven: she is its light, its God; and in the heart of man she sits as high, though groveling minds forget her oftentimes, seeing but this world's idols.
Woe for my vine-clad home, that it should ever be so dark to me, with its bright threshold and its whispering tree!
The dust is old upon my "sandal-shoon,"
And still I am a pilgrim; I have roved
From wild America to Bosphor's waters,
And worshipp'd at innumerable shrines
Of beauty; and the painter's art, to me,
And sculpture, speak as with a living tongue,
And of dead kingdoms, I recall the soul,
Sitting amid their ruins.
- Florence Gray [Traveling]
Press on!--"For in the grave there is no work
And no device"--Press on! while yet ye may!
- From a Poem Delivered at Yale College
(l. 45) [Progress]
The world well tried--the sweetest thing in life
Is the unclouded welcome of a wife.
- Lady Jane (canto II, st. 11) [Wives]
Your love in a cottage is hungry,
Your vine is a nest for flies--
Your milkmaid shocks the Graces,
And simplicity talks of pies!
You lie down to your shady slumber
And wake with a bug in your ear,
Any your damsel that walks in the morning
Is shod like a mountaineer.
- Love in a Cottage (st. 3) [Love]
At present there is no distinction among the upper ten thousand of the city.
- Necessity for a Promenade Drive [Society]
How beautiful it is for a man to die
Upon the walls of Zion! to be called
Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel,
To put his armour off, and rest in heaven!
- On the Death of a Missionary [Death]
And mad ambition trumpeteth to all.
- Parrhasius [Ambition]
How like a mounting devil in the heart
Rules the unreined ambition!
- Parrhasius [Ambition]
For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart;
And makes his pulses fly,
To catch the thrill of a happy voice,
And the light of a pleasant eye.
- Saturday Afternoon (st. 1) [Happiness]
The Spring is here--the delicate footed May,
With its slight fingers full of leaves and flowers,
And with it comes a thirst to be away.
In lovelier scenes to pass these sweeter hours.
- Spring [Spring]
'Tis a bird I love, with its brooding note,
And the trembling throb in its mottled throat;
There's a human look in its swelling breast,
And the gentle curve of its lowly crest;
And I often stop with the fear I feel--
He runs so close to the rapid wheel.
- The Belfry Pigeon [Pigeons]
Let us weep in our darkness--but weep not for him!
Not for him--who, departing, leaves millions in tears!
Not for him--who has died full of honor and years!
Not for him--who ascended Fame's ladder so high.
From the round at the top he has stepped to the sky.
- The Death of Harrison (st. 6) [Mourning]
But he who never sins can little boast
Compared to him who goes and sins no more!
- The Lady Jane (canto II, st. 44) [Sin]
It is the month of June,
The month of leaves and roses,
When pleasant sights salute the eyes
And pleasant scents the noses.
- The Month of June [June]
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