how sad and bad and mad it was – but then, how it was sweet
Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp,Or what’s a heaven for?
There is an inmost center in us all, where truth abides in fullness;….and, to know, rather consists in opening out a way where the imprisoned splendor may escape, then in effecting entry for a light supposed to be without.
Love, hope, fear, faith – these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character
Days decrease, / And autumn grows, autumn in everything.
Who hears music, feels his solitudePeopled at once.
In this world, who can do a thing, will not;And who would do it, cannot, I perceive:Yet the will’s somewhat — somewhat, too, the power —And thus we half-men struggle.
The power of the night, the press of the storm, the post of the foe; where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, yet, the strong man must go.
Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made …
I was made and meant to look for you and wait for you and become yours forever.
The gray sea and the long black land; And the yellow half-moon large and low: And the startled little waves that leap In fiery ringlets from their sleep, As I gain the cove with pushing prow,And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand.
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more footpath untrod,One more devils’-triumph and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Blot out his name, then, record one lost soul more,One task more declin’d, one more foot-path ontrod,One more devil’s triumph and sorrow for angels,One wrong more to man, one more insult to God!
Grow old with me! The best is yet to be The last of life for which the first was made: Our times are in his hands Who sayeth “a whole I plant Youth shows but half Trust God see all nor be afraid.”
Your children are not dead. They are just waiting until the world deserves them.
Ah but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp or what’s a heaven for?
Man’s reach should exceed his grasp or what’s a heaven for?
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
When a man’s busy leisure strikes him as a wonderful pleasure and at leisure once is he? Straightway he wants to be busy.
I… know what I do and am unmoved by men’s blame or their praise either.
When the fight begins within himself a man’s worth something.
Strike when thou wilt the hour of rest but let my last days be my best.
T’were too absurd to slight for the hereafter the day’s delight!
Autumn wins you best by this: its mute Appeal to sympathy for its decay.
Like dogs in a wheel, birds in a cage, or squirrels in a chain, ambitious men still climb and climb, with great labor, and incessant anxiety, but never reach the top.
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good compensate bad in man, absolve him so: life’s business being just the terrible choice.
Love, hope, fear, faith – these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character.
Ah, but a man’s reach should exceed his grasp, Or what’s a heaven for?
I trust in nature for the stable laws of beauty and utility. Spring shall plant and autumn garner to the end of time.
A face to lose youth for, to occupy age With the dream of, meet death with.
Who hears music feels his solitude peopled at once.
So, fall asleep love, loved by me… for I know love, I am loved by thee.
Autumn wins you best by this its mute appeal to sympathy for its decay.
If you get simple beauty and naught else, you get about the best thing God invents.
Thou art my single day, God lends to leaven What were all earth else, with a feel of heaven.