It is hard to wive and thrive both in a year.
As the husband is, the wife is.
Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every people sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword “Evolution” here.
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.
The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.
Nor at all can tell Whether I mean this day to end myself, Or lend an ear to Plato where he says, That men like soldiers may not quit the post Allotted by the Gods.
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea.
On all things created remaineth the half-effaced signature of God, Somewhat of fair and good, though blotted by the finger of corruption.
But the churchmen fain would kill their church, As the churches have kill’d their Christ.
This round of green, this orb of flame, Fantastic beauty; such as lurks In some wild poet, when he works Without a conscience or an aim.
I wind about, and in and out, – With here a blossom sailing, – And here and there a lusty trout, – And here and there a grayling...
I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.
All Life needs for life is possible to will.
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.
And every dew-drop paints a bow.
All things are taken from us, and become Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Nature is one with rapine, a harm no preacher can heal; The Mayfly is torn by the swallow, the sparrow speared by the shrike, And the whole little wood where I sit is a world of plunder and prey.
The woman’s cause is man’s: they rise or sink Together.
God and Nature met in light.
God made thee good as thou art beautiful.