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Happy the life, that in a peaceful stream, Obscure, unnoticed through the vale has flow'd; The heart that ne'er was charm'd by fortune's gleam Is ever sweet contentment's blest abode. - [Contentment] How awful is that hour when con, science stings. - [Conscience] I am one who finds within me a nobility that spurns the idle pratings of the great, and their mean boasts of what their fathers were, while they themselves are fools effeminate. - [Ancestry] Night steals on; and the day takes its farewell, like the words of a departing friend, or the last tone of hallowed music in a minister's aisles, heard when it floats along the shade of elms, in the still place of graves. - [Evening] Roses bloom, and then they wither; Cheeks are bright, then fade and die; Shapes of light are wafted hither, Then, like visions, hurry by. - [Vicissitudes] She had grown, in her unstained seclusion, bright and pure as a first opening lilac, when it spreads its clear leaves to the sweetest dawn of May. - [Maidenhood] Sweet flower, thou tellest how hearts as pure and tender as thy leaf, as low and humble as thy stem, will surely know the joy that peace imparts. - [Flowers] The recollection of one upward hour Hath more in it to tranquilize and cheer The darkness of despondency, than years Of gayety and pleasure. - [Despondency] The thundering voice that wrings, in one dark, damning moment, crimes of years! - [Conscience] The world is full of poetry. The air is living with its spirit; and the waves dance to the music of its melodies, and sparkle in its brightness. - [Poetry] There are moments of life that we never forget, Which brighten, and brighten, as time steals away; They give a new charm to the happiest lot, And they shine on the gloom of the loneliest day. - [Memory] There is nothing but death Our affections can sever, And till life's latest breath Love shall bind us for ever. - [Constancy] We met, and we drank from the crystalline well, That flows from the fountains of science above; On the beauties of thought we would silently dwell, Till we looked--though we never were talking of love. - [Thought] Ye clouds, that are the ornament of heaven, Who give to it its gayest shadowings And its most awful glories; ye who roll In the dark tempest, or at dewy evening Bow low in tenderest beauty;--ye are to us A volume full of wisdom. - [Clouds] O rose! the sweetest blossom, Of spring the fairest flower, O rose! the joy of heaven. The god of love, with roses His yellow locks adorning, Dances with the hours and graces. - Anacreontic (st. 2) [Roses] Our thoughts are boundless, though our frames are frail, Our souls immortal, though our limbs decay; Though darken'd in this poor life by a veil Of suffering, dying matter, we shall play In truth's eternal sunbeams; on the way To heaven's high capitol our cars shall roll; The temple of the Power whom all obey, That is the mark we tend to, for the soul Can take no lower flight, and seek no meaner goal. - Prometheus [Soul] Thought can wing its way Swifter than lightning-flashes or the beam That hastens on the pinions of the morn. - Sonnet [Thought] In Eastern lands they talk in flowers, And they tell in a garland their loves and cares; Each blossom that blooms in their garden bowers, On its leaves a mystic language bears. - The Language of Flowers [Flowers] Bird of the broad and sweeping wing, Thy home is high in heaven, Where wide the storms their banners fling, And the tempest clouds are driven. - To the Eagle [Eagles]
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