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Necessity, thou mother of the world!
Nought may endure but Mutability.
Obedience indeed is only the pitiful and cowardly egotism of him who thinks that he can do something better than reason.
Oh that simplicity and innocence its own unvalued work so seldom knows!
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught:
Our sweetest songs are those which tell of saddest thought.
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts.
Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of the happiest and best minds.
Poets are the hierophants of an unapprehended inspiration; the mirrors of the gigantic shadows which futurity casts upon the present.
Poets are the unacknowledged legislators of the world.
Power, life a desolating pestilence,
Pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience,
Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,
Makes slaves of men, and of the human frame,
A mechanized automaton.
Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.
- [Imagination : Reason]
Revenge and wrong bring forth their kind;
The foul cubs like their parents are.
Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.
See the mountains kiss high heavens, and the waves clasp one another.
Such affection and unbroken faith as temper life's worst bitterness.
The breath of accusation kills an innocent name, and leaves for lame acquittal the poor life, which is a mask without it.
The cold chaste Moon, the Queen of Heaven's bright isles,
Who makes all beautiful on which she smiles!
That wandering shrine of soft, yet icy flame,
Which ever is transform'd yet still the same,
And warms, but not illumines.
The feast is such as earth, the general mother,
Pours from her fairest bosom, when she smiles,
In the embrace of autumn.
The jealous keys of truth's eternal doors.
The sun is set; the swallows are asleep;
The bats are flitting fast in the gray air;
The slow soft toads out of damp corners creep;
And evening's breath, wandering here and there
Over the quivering surface of the stream,
Wakes not one ripple from its silent dream.
The unquiet republic of the maze of planets, struggling fierce towards heaven's free wilderness.
The world is weary of the past, oh, might it die or rest at last.
The world's great age begins anew,
The golden years return,
The earth doth like a snake renew
Her winter weeds outworn.
They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
Thou shoreless flood, which in thy ebb and flow claspest the limits of mortality.
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