I embrace the purpose of God and the doom assigned
Not once or twice in our fair island-story,The path of duty was the way to glory.
Such a one do I remember, whom to look at was love.
I remainMistress of mine own self and mine own soul
A lie that is half-truth is the darkest of all lies.
Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘It will be happier.’
Come friends, it’s not too late to seek a newer world.
A lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies.
In Memoriam A.H.H. Section 5I sometimes hold it half a sinTo put in words the grief I feel;For words, like Nature, half revealAnd half conceal the Soul within.But, for the unquiet heart and brain,A use in measured language lies;The sad mechanic exercise,Like dull narcotics, numbing pain.In words, like weeds, I’ll wrap me o’er,Like coarsest clothes...
Praise to our Indian brothers, and the dark face have his due!Thanks to the kindly dark faces who fought with us, faithful and few,Fought with the bravest among us, and drove them, and smote them, and slew.That ever upon the topment roof our banner in India blew.
The same words conceal and declare the thoughts of men.
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.
Splendid is the flower.” Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed. And some are pretty enough, And some are poor indeed; And now again the people Call it but a weed.
What rights are those that dare not resist for them?
Yet all experience is an arch wherethroughGleams that untraveled world whose margin fadesForever and forever when I move.How dull it is to pause, to make an end,To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!As though to breathe were life!
There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds.
My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure.
In the long years liker they must grow; The man be more of woman, she of man.
But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills,And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me,And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’dTo dwell in presence of immortal youth,Immortal age beside immortal youth,And all I was, in ashes. – Tithonus
Now slides the silent meteor on, and leaves a shining furrow, as thy thoughts in me.Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,and slips into the bosom of the lake:So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip into my bosom and be lost in me.
Men at most differ as Heaven and Earth, but women, worst and best, as Heaven and Hell.