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Page 536 - With how sad steps, O Moon, thou climb'st the skies ; How silently ; and with how wan a face ! What ! may it be, that even in heavenly place That busy Archer his sharp arrows tries...
Page 22 - A second man I honour, and still more highly: Him who is seen toiling for the spiritually indispensable; not daily bread, but the bread of Life.
Page 536 - Then, even of fellowship, O Moon! tell me, Is constant love deemed there but want of wit? Are beauties there as proud as here they be? Do they above love to be loved, and yet Those lovers scorn whom that love doth possess ? — Do they call "virtue
Page 218 - Every day is a fresh beginning. Every morn is the world made new; You who are weary of sorrow and sinning, Here is a beautiful hope for you — A hope for me and a hope for you.
Page 105 - Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother ; and she was a widow : and much people of the city was with her.
Page 111 - God; from his inmost heart awakens him to all nobleness, — to all knowledge, "selfknowledge" and much else, so soon as work fitly begins. Knowledge? The knowledge that will hold good in working, cleave thou to that ; for Nature herself accredits that, says Yea to that. Properly thou hast no other knowledge but what thou hast got by working: the rest is yet all a hypothesis of knowledge; a thing to be argued of in schools, a thing floating in the clouds, in endless logic-vortices, till we try it...
Page 452 - On the other hand, those who have lost an infant, are never, as it were, without an infant child. They are the only persons who, in one sense, retain it always, and they furnish their neighbors with the same idea.* The other children grow up to manhood and womanhood, and suffer all the changes of mortality. This one alone is rendered an immortal child. Death has arrested it with his kindly harshness, and blessed it into an eternal image of youth and innocence.
Page 349 - For I was hungry and you gave me to eat; I was thirsty and you gave me to drink; I was a stranger and you took me in. Naked and you covered me; sick and you visited me; I was in prison, and you came to me.
Page 618 - Atheistic science babbles poorly of it, with scientific nomenclatures, experiments and what not, as if it were a poor dead thing, to be bottled up in Leyden jars and sold over counters : but the natural sense of man, in all times, if he will honestly apply his sense, proclaims it to be a living thing, — ah, an unspeakable, godlike thing; towards which the best attitude for us, after never so much science, is awe, devout prostration and humility of soul; worship if not in words, then in silence.
Page 226 - Life is a jest, and all things show it, I thought so once, but now I know it, with what more you may think proper.