Oft in my way have I stood still, though but a casual passenger, so much I felt the awfulness of life.
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts bring sad thoughts to the mind.
Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark, And shares the nature of infinity
Thought and theory must precede all salutary action; yet action is nobler in itself than either thought or theory.
The human mind is capable of excitement without the application of gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this.
Lost in a gloom of uninspired research.
Worse than idle is compassion if it ends in tears and sighs.
Rapine, avarice, expense, This is idolatry; and these we adore; Plain living and high thinking are no more.
The best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
From the body of one guilty deed a thousand ghostly fears and haunting thoughts proceed.
Miss not the occasion; by the fore lock take that subtle power, the never-halting time.
Happier of happy though I be, like them I cannot take possession of the sky, mount with a thoughtless impulse, and wheel there, one of a mighty multitude whose way and motion is a harmony and dance magnificent.
Poetry is most just to its divine origin, when it administers the comforts and breathes the thoughts of religion.
Our noisy years seem moments in the being of the eternal silence.
The flower that smells the sweetest is shy and lowly.
Not Chaos, not the darkest pit of lowest Erebus, nor aught of blinder vacancy, scooped out by help of dreams—can breed such fear and awe as fall upon us often when we look into our Minds, into the Mind of Man.
Topics: Mind, The Mind
How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!
Though inland far we be,
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither
Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.
Sweetest melodies are those that are y distance made more sweet.
Wisdom is oft times nearer when we stoop than when we soar.
The charities that soothe, and heal, and bless, lie scattered at the feet of men like flowers.
Behold the Child among his new-born blisses
A six years’ Darling of a pigmy size!
See, where ‘mid work of his own hand he lies,
Fretted by sallies of his mother’s kisses,
With light upon him from his father’s eyes!
See, at his feet, some little plan or chart,
Some fragment from his dream of human life,
Shaped by himself with newly-learned art.
Not choice, but habit rules the unreflecting herd.
Wondering Whom to Read Next?
- Percy Bysshe Shelley English Poet
- Samuel Taylor Coleridge English Poet
- Edmund Spenser English Poet
- William Blake English Poet
- Christina Rossetti English Poet
- Geoffrey Chaucer English Poet
- John Dryden English Poet
- John Masefield English Poet
- Bernard Mandeville British Writer
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning English Poet