I love thee, I love but thee, With a love that shall not die.
With rushing winds and gloomy skies The dark and stubborn Winter dies: Far-off, unseen, Spring faintly cries, Bidding her earliest child arise; March!
The healing of the world is in its nameless saints. Each separate star seems nothing, but a myriad scattered stars break up the night and make it beautiful.
Learn to live, and live to learn,
Ignorance like a fire doth burn,
Little tasks make large return.
And far and wide, in a scarlet tide, The poppy's bonfire spread.
The most annoying of all blockheads is a well-read fool.
By wisdom wealth is won; but riches purchased wisdom yet for none.
He teaches best,
Who feels the hearts of all men in his breast,
And knows their strength or weakness through his own.
And the wind that saddens, the sea that gladdens, Are singing the selfsame strain.
The bravest are the most tender; the loving are the daring.
Pens carry further than rifled cannon.
Opportunity is rare, and a wise man will never let it go by him.
Sweeter than the stolen kiss Are the granted kisses
It is an agreeable and yet a painful sense of novelty to stand for the first time in the midst of a people whose language and manners are different from one's own.
But who will watch my lilies, When their blossoms open white? By day the sun shall be sentry, And the moon and the stars by night!
Death is not rare, alas! nor burials few,
And soon the grassy coverlet of God
Spreads equal green above their ashes pale.
Alone each heart must cover up its dead; Alone, through bitter toil, achieve its rest.
Mock jewelry on a woman is tangible vulgarity.
To learn by observation is traveling, people must also bring knowledge with them.
The Prophet's words were true;
The mouth of Ali is the golden door
When his friends to Ali bore
These words, he smiled and said: "And should they ask
The same until my dying day, the task
Were easy; for the stream from Wisdom's well,
Which God supplies, is inexhaustible.
Those who would attain to any marked degree of excellence in a chosen pursuit must work, and work hard for it, prince or peasant.
The lamp you lighted in the olden time Will show you my heart's-blood beating through the rhyme: A poet's journal, writ in fire and tears... Then slow deliverance, with the gaps of years.
The Poet's leaves are gathered one by one,
In the slow process of the doubtful years.
Could one live on the sense of beauty alone, exempt from the necessity of 'creature comforts,' a sea-voyage would be delightful.
Above Coblentz almost every mountain has a ruin and a legend. One feels everywhere the spirit of the past, and its stirring recollections come back upon the mind with irresistible force.
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