Poems of Many Years

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Seite 121 - If you have no power of giving ; — An arm of aid to the weak ; — A friendly hand to the friendless ; — Kind words so short to speak, But whose echo is endless — The world is wide ; these things are small ; They may be nothing, but they are all.
Seite 125 - Not conscious what mere drops they cast Into the evil sea. A man's best things are nearest him, Lie close about his feet, It is the distant and the dim That we are sick to greet : For flowers that grow our hands beneath We struggle and aspire, — Our hearts must die, except they breathe The air of fresh Desire. Yet, Brothers, who up Reason's hill Advance with hopeful cheer, — O ! loiter not, those heights are chill, As chill as they are clear ; And still restrain your haughty gaze, The loftier...
Seite 11 - For when faintness or disease Had usurped upon our knees, If he deigned our lips to kiss With those living lips of his, We were lightened of our pain, We were up and hale again : — Now, without one blessing glance From his rose-lit countenance, We shall die, deserted men, — And not see him, even then...
Seite 77 - And led the way through the upper hyaline, Smiling in beauty tenfold glorified, Which, while on earth, had seemed enough divine, The beauty of the Spirit-Bride, Who guided the rapt Florentine. " The depth of human reason must become As deep as is the holy human heart, Ere aught in written phrases can impart The might and meaning of that ecstasy To those low souls, who hold the mystery Of the unseen universe for dark and dumb.
Seite 227 - The active frame or vigorous will ; Or hard occasion may prevent Their exercise of humble skill. It may be that the suppliant's life Has lain on many an evil way Of foul delight and brutal strife, And lawless deeds that shun the day ; But how can any gauge of yours The depth of that temptation try ? What man resists, what man endures, Is open to one only eye. Why not believe the homely letter, That all you give will God restore ? The poor man may deserve it better, And surely, surely, wants it more...
Seite 22 - If life were all like this to you and me, How would it matter to be young or old ? Where is the privilege of youth's buoyancy, Could we thus turn Time's iron scythe to gold ? The pleasures given To man were all too great, and there would be No want of heaven. Let us go forth, and resolutely dare, With sweat of brow, to toil our little day...
Seite 12 - OH THAT I were as in months past, as in the days when God preserved me; When his candle shined upon my head, and when by his light I walked through darkness; As I was in the days of my youth, when the secret of God was upon my tabernacle...
Seite 85 - Beneath an Indian palm a girl Of other blood reposes, Her cheek is clear and pale as pearl, Amid that wild of roses. Beside a northern pine a boy Is leaning fancy-bound, Nor listens where with noisy joy Awaits the impatient hound. Cool grows the sick and feverish calm, — Relaxed the frosty twine, — The pine-tree dreameth of the palm, The palm-tree of the pine. As soon shall nature interlace Those dimly-visioned boughs, As these young lovers face to face Renew their early vows ! IV.

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