The World Beautiful in Books

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Little, Brown,, 1901 - 415 oldal

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238. oldal - Come lovely and soothing death, Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving, In the day, in the night, to all, to each, Sooner or later delicate death. Prais'd be the fathomless universe, For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious, And for love, sweet love — but praise! praise! praise! For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.
286. oldal - Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low-vaulted past! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea!
283. oldal - How do I love thee ? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
199. oldal - I HAVE been here before, But when or how I cannot tell: I know the grass beyond the door, The sweet keen smell, The sighing sound, the lights around the shore.
37. oldal - Man is his own star; and the soul that can Render an honest and a perfect man, Commands all light, all influence, all fate; Nothing to him falls early or too late. Our acts our angels are, or good or ill, Our fatal shadows that walk by us still.
222. oldal - Fear no more the frown o' the great; Thou art past the tyrant's stroke; Care no more to clothe and eat; To thee the reed is as the oak. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this, and come to dust.
207. oldal - UNDER the wide and starry sky, Dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be ; Home is the sailor, home from sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
199. oldal - He spake of love, such love as Spirits feel In worlds whose course is equable and pure; No fears to beat away — no strife to heal — The past unsighed for, and the future sure; 100.
282. oldal - And now, what time ye all may read through dimming tears his story, How discord on the music fell and darkness on the glory...
184. oldal - THERE are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain : But when youth, the dream, departs, It takes something from our hearts, And it never comes again. We are stronger, and are better, Under manhood's sterner reign : Still we feel that something sweet Followed youth, with flying feet, And will never come again. Something beautiful is vanished, And we sigh for it in vain : We seek it everywhere, On the earth and in the air, But it never comes again ! LANDWARD.

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