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˹éÒ 161 - O'er other creatures : yet when I approach Her loveliness, so absolute she seems And in herself complete, so well to know Her own, that what she wills to do or say Seems wisest, virtuousest, discreetest, best : All higher knowledge in her presence falls Degraded ; wisdom in discourse with her Loses discountenanced, and like folly shows...
˹éÒ 298 - THE BODY of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, (like the cover of an old book, its contents torn out, and stript of its lettering and gilding) lies here food for worms ; yet the work itself shall not be lost, for it will (as he believed) appear once more in a new and more beautiful edition, corrected and amended by THE AUTHOR.
˹éÒ 284 - Incarnate Son of God. O lonely grave in Moab's land ! O dark Beth-Peor's hill ! Speak to these curious hearts of ours, And teach them to be still. God hath His mysteries of grace, Ways that we cannot tell ; He hides them deep, like the hidden sleep Of him He loved so well.
˹éÒ 284 - This was the truest warrior That ever buckled sword, This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word; And never earth's philosopher Traced with his golden pen, On the deathless page, truths half so sage As he wrote down for men.
˹éÒ 92 - ... that for ever droop and rise over the green banks and mounds sweeping down in scented undulation, steep to the blue water, studded here and there with new-mown heaps, filling all the air with fainter sweetness — look up towards the higher hills, where the waves of everlasting green roll silently into their long inlets among the shadows of the pines ; and we may perhaps at last know the meaning of those quiet words of the 147th Psalm, ' He maketh grass to grow upon the mountains.
˹éÒ 347 - Philomel her voice shall raise ? You violets that first appear, By your pure purple mantles known Like the proud virgins of the year, As if the spring were all your own ; What are you when the rose is blown ? So, when my mistress shall be seen In form and beauty of her mind, By virtue first, then choice, a Queen, Tell me, if she were not design'd Th...
˹éÒ 284 - For beast and bird have seen and heard That which man knoweth not. But when the warrior dieth, His comrades in the war, With arms reversed and muffled drum, Follow his funeral car ; They show the banners taken, They tell his battles won, And after him lead his masterless steed, While peals the minute gun.
˹éÒ 285 - I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night, When the winds are breathing low, And the stars are shining bright; I arise from dreams of thee, And a spirit in my feet Has led me — who knows how? — To thy chamber window, sweet ! The wandering airs, they faint On the dark, the silent stream — The champak odors fail Like sweet thoughts in a dream; The nightingale's complaint, It dies upon her heart, As I must die on thine, O, beloved as thou art!
˹éÒ 284 - This was the bravest warrior That ever buckled sword ; This the most gifted poet That ever breathed a word ; And never earth's philosopher...
˹éÒ 297 - When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way.

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