The country is lyric, the town dramatic. When mingled, they make the most perfect musical drama.
Into a world unknown,-the corner-stone of a nation!
Then from the neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen.
Well I know the secret places, And the nests in hedge and tree; At what doors are friendly faces, In what hearts are thoughts of me.
Burn, O evening hearth, and waken Pleasant visions, as of old! Though the house by winds be shaken, Safe I keep this room of gold!
A coquette is a young lady of more beauty than sense, more accomplishments than learning, more charms not person than graces of mind, more admirers than friends, mole fools than wise men for attendants.
To be left alone, and face to face with my own crime, had been just retribution.
Bell, thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell, thou soundest solemnly, When, on Sabbath morning, Fields deserted lie!
A man must be of a very quiet and happy nature, who can long endure the country; and, moreover, very well contented with his own insignificant person.
To say the least, a town life makes one more tolerant and liberal in one's judgment of others.
Death is the chillness that precedes the dawn; We shudder for a moment, then awake In the broad sunshine of the other life.
Were half the power that fills the world with terror, Were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts, Given to redeem the human mind from error, There were no need of arsenals or forts.
One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm For the country folk to be up and to arm.
The bells themselves are the best of preachers, Their brazen lips are learned teachers, From their pulpits of stone, in the upper air, Sounding aloft, without crack or flaw, Shriller than trumpets under the Law, Now a sermon and now a prayer.
Our pleasures and our discontents, Are rounds by which we may ascend.
Evil is only good perverted.
A solid man of Boston; A comfortable man with dividends, And the first salmon and the first green peas.
What else remains for me? Youth, hope and love; To build a new life on a ruined life.
Truths that startled the generation in which they were first announced become in the next age the commonplaces of conversation; as the famous airs of operas which thrilled the first audiences come to be played on hand-organs in the streets.
One half the world must sweat and groan that the other half may dream.
Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
God's voice was not in the earthquake, Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering breezes.
Gone are the birds that were our summer guests.
O thou sculptor, painter, poet! Take this lesson to thy heart: That is best which lieth nearest; Shape from that thy work of art.
Every human heart is human.
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