What was once to me mere matter of the fancy now has grown the vast necessity of heart and life.
Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.
Too much wit makes the world rotten.
It may be that no life is found, Which only to one engine bound Falls off, but cycles always round.
Follow the deer? Follow the Christ the King. Live pure, speak true,right wrong, Follow the King-- Else, wherefore born?
Can calm despair and wild unrest Be tenants of a single breast, Or sorrow such a changeling be?
Forgive! How many will say, forgive, and find a sort of absolution in the sound to hate a little longer!
To love one maiden only, cleave to her, And worship her by years of noble deeds, Until they won her; for indeed I knew Of no more subtle master under heaven Than is the maiden passion for a maid, Not only to keep down the base in man, But teach high thought, and aimable words And courtliness, and the desire of fame, And love of truth, and all that makes man.
So sad, so fresh the days that are no more.
Forgive my grief for one removed Thy creature whom I found so fair I trust he lives in Thee and there I find him worthier to be loved.
I am any man's suitor, If any will be my tutor: Some say this life is pleasant, Some think it speedeth fast, In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past. We laugh, we cry, we are born, we die. Who will riddle me the how and the why?
The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.
A sorrow's crown of sorrow is remembering happier times.
The white flower of a blameless life.
Cast all your cares on God; that anchor holds.
There's no glory like those who save their country.
Cricket, however, has more in it than mere efficiency. There is something called the spirit of cricket, which cannot be defined.
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill; But O for the touch of a vanished hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flown Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone: And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown. For a breeze of morning moves, And the planet of Love is on high, Beginning to faint in the light that she loves On a bed of daffodil sky.
Rain, rain, and sun! A rainbow in the sky!
My mind is clouded with a doubt.
Lady, for indeed I loved you and I deemed you beautiful, I cannot brook to see your beauty marred Through evil spite: and if ye love me not, I cannot bear to dream you so forsworn: I had liefer ye were worthy of my love, Than to be loved again of you - farewell; And though ye kill my hope, not yet my love, Vex not yourself: ye will not see me more.
Faith lives in honest doubt.
O mighty-mouthed inventor of harmonies, O skilled to sing of Time or Eternity, God-gifted organ-voice of England, Milton, a name to resound for ages.
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