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Seite 274 - BE NOBLE ! and the nobleness that lies In other men, sleeping, but never dead, Will rise in majesty to meet thine own; Then wilt thou see it gleam in many eyes, Then will pure light around thy path be shed, And thou wilt nevermore be sad and lone.
Seite 303 - OVER his keys the musing organist, Beginning doubtfully and far away, First lets his fingers wander as they list. And builds a bridge from Dreamland for his lay : Then, as the touch of his loved instrument Gives hope and fervor, nearer draws his theme, First guessed by faint auroral flushes sent Along the wavering vista of his dream.
Seite 160 - Once to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, In the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side...
Seite 97 - It may be glorious to write Thoughts that shall glad the two or three High souls, like those far stars that come in sight Once in a century ; — But better far it is to speak One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of men...
Seite 262 - IN a small chamber, friendless and unseen, Toiled o'er his types one poor, unlearned young man ; The place was dark, unfurnitured, and mean ;— Yet there the freedom of a race began. Help came but slowly; surely no man yet Put lever to the heavy world with less : What need of help ? He knew how types were set, He had a dauntless spirit, and a press.
Seite 163 - Rock sublime? They were men of present valor, stalwart old iconoclasts, Unconvinced by axe or gibbet that all virtue was the Past's; But we make their truth our falsehood, thinking that hath made us free, Hoarding it in mouldy parchments, while our tender spirits flee The rude grasp of that great Impulse which drove them across the sea.
Seite 46 - Wishes o'erjoyed with humble things, A rank adjudged by toil-.won merit, Content that from employment springs, A heart that in his labor sings ; A heritage, it seems to me, A king might wish to hold in fee.
Seite 308 - As Sir Launfal made morn through the darksome gate, He was 'ware of a leper, crouched by the same, Who begged with his hand and moaned as he sate ; And a loathing over Sir Launfal came ; The sunshine went out of his soul with a thrill, The flesh 'neath his armor 'gan shrink and crawl...
Seite 16 - Blessing she is : God made her so ; And deeds of week-day holiness Fall from her noiseless as the snow ; Nor hath she ever chanced to know That aught were easier than to bless.
Seite 116 - ... work Is not born with him; there is always work, And tools to work withal, for those who will; And blessed are the horny hands of toil ! The busy world shoves angrily aside The man who stands with arms akimbo set, Until occasion tells him what to do; And he who waits to have his task marked out Shall die and leave his errand unfulfilled. Our time is one that calls for earnest deeds...