A willing heart adds feather to the heel.
If my heart were not light, I would die.
I have seen the day, when, if a man made himself ridiculous, the world would laugh at him. But now, everything that is mean, disgusting, and absurd, pleases them but so much the better!
But dreams full oft are found of real events
The form and shadows.
A woman is seldom roused to great and courageous exertion but when something most dear to her is in immediate danger.
She who only finds her self-esteem
In others' admiration, begs an alms;
Depends on others for her daily food,
And is the very servant of her slaves;
Tho' oftentimes, in a fantastic hour,
O'er men she may a childish pow'r exert,
Which not ennobles but degrades her state.
This will be triumph! This will be happiness! Yea, that very thing, happiness, which I have been pursuing all my life, and have never yet overtaken.
Time never bears such moments on his wing as when he flies too swiftly to be marked.
Half-uttered praise is to the curious mind, as to the eye half-veiled beauty is, more precious than the whole.
Tis ever thus: indulgence spoils the base;
Raising up pride, and lawless turbulence,
Like noxious vapors from the fulsome marsh
When morning shines upon it.
Heaven often smites in mercy, even when the blow is severest.
I believe this earth on which we stand is but the vestibule to glorious mansions through which a moving crowd forever press.
The tyrant now Trusts not to men: nightly within his chamber The watch-dog guards his couch, the only friend He now dare trust.
Oh swiftly glides the bonnie boat, Just parted from the shore, And to the fisher's chorus-note Soft moves the dipping oar.
O lovely Sisters! is it true That they are all inspired by you, And write by inward magic charm'd, And high enthusiasm warm'd?
Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world But those who slide along the grassy sod, And sting the luckless foot that presses them? There are who in the path of social life Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun, And sting the soul.
Busy work brings after ease; Ease brings sport and sport brings rest; For young and old, of all degrees, The mingled lot is best.
Words of affection, howsoe'er expressed, The latest spoken still are deem'd the best.
But woman's grief is like a summer storm, Short as it violent is.
The strength of man sinks in the hour of trial; but there doth live a Power that to the battle girdeth the weak.
Ah! happy is the man whose early lot Hath made him master of a furnish'd cot; Who trains the vine that round his window grows, And after setting sun his garden hoes; Whose wattled pails his own enclosure shield, Who toils not daily in another's field.
I am as one
Who doth attempt some lofty mountain's height,
And having gained what to the upcast eye
The summit's point appear'd, astonished sees
Its cloudy top, majestic and enlarged,
Towering aloft, as distant as before.
The mind doth shape itself to its own wants, and can bear all things.
There is a sight all hearts beguiling--
A youthful mother to her infant smiling,
Who with spread arms and dancing feet,
A cooing voice, returns its answer sweet.
O mysterious Night! thou art not silent; many tongues halt thou.
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