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T.Y. Crowell, 1904 - 75 ˹éÒ
 

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˹éÒ 46 - There shall never be one lost good! What was, shall live as before; The evil is null, is naught, is silence implying sound; What was good, shall be good, with, for evil, so much good more; On the earth the broken arcs; in the heaven, a perfect round.
˹éÒ 67 - Then, welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
˹éÒ 32 - I go to prove my soul! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive ! what time, what circuit first, I ask not: but unless God send his hail Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time!
˹éÒ 46 - Truth is within ourselves ; it takes no rise From outward things, whate'er you may believe. There is an inmost centre in us all, Where truth abides in fulness ; and around, Wall upon wall, the gross flesh hems it in, This perfect, clear perception— which is truth.
˹éÒ 24 - No, when the fight begins within himself, A man's worth something. God stoops o'er his head, Satan looks up between his feet — both tug — He's left, himself, i' the middle: the soul wakes And grows.
˹éÒ 28 - The year's at the spring And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven; The hill-side's dew-pearled; The lark's on the wing; The snail's on the thorn: God's in his heaven — All's right with the world!
˹éÒ 22 - OH, TO BE in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England - now...
˹éÒ 45 - He holds on firmly to some thread of life — (It is the life to lead perforcedly) — Which runs across some vast distracting orb Of glory on either side that meagre thread, Which, conscious of, he must not enter yet — The spiritual life around the earthly life! The law of that is known to him as this — His heart and brain move there, his feet stay here.
˹éÒ 58 - It's wiser being good than bad; It's safer being meek than fierce : It's fitter being sane than mad. My own hope is, a sun will pierce The thickest cloud earth ever stretched ; That, after Last, returns the First, Though a wide compass round be fetched ; That what began best, can't end worst, Nor what God blessed once, prove accurst.
˹éÒ 64 - That low man seeks a little thing to do, Sees it and does it : This high man, with a great thing to pursue, Dies ere he knows it.

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