If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, Why does he not come himself, and take the trouble to woo me? If I am not worth the wooing, I surely am not worth the winning!
Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet!
Tis always morning somewhere.
Our ingress into the world Was naked and bare; Our progress through the world Is trouble and care.
Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start.
Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, to some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, there are no birds in last year’s nest!
As the heart is, so is love to the heart. It partakes of its strength or weakness, its health or disease.
From labor there shall come forth rest.
The Mormons make the marriage ring, like the ring of Saturn, fluid, not solid, and keep it in its place by numerous satellites.
Time, like a preacher in the days of the Puritans, turned the hour-glass on his high pulpit, the church belfry.
Art is long, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
Whatever poet, orator, or sage may say of it, old age is still old age.
The secret anniversaries of the heart.
So Nature deals with us, and takes away Our playthings one by one, and by the hand Leads us to rest so gently, that we go, Scarce knowing if we wish to go or stay, Being too full of sleep to understand How far the unknown transcends the what we know.
In December ring Every day the chimes; Loud the gleemen sing In the streets their merry rhymes. Let us by the fire Ever higher Sing them till the night expire!
Stars of earth, these golden flowers; emblems of our own great resurrection; emblems of the bright and better land.
Think not because no man sees, such things will remain unseen.
I venerate old age; and I love not the man who can look without emotion upon the sunset of life, when the dusk of evening begins to gather over the watery eye, and the shadows of twilight grow broader and deeper upon the understanding.
History casts its shadow far into the land of song.
It was the schooner Hesperus, That sailed the wintry sea.