What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)
Contributed by: Zaady
Men of genius are often dull and inert in society; as the blazing meteor, when it descends to earth, is only a stone.
There is a reaper whose name is Death, And with his sickle keen He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
Source: The Reaper and the Flowers.
There is no death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
Be still, sad heart and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
Every dewdrop and raindrop had a whole heaven within it.
You would attain to the divine perfection. . . .
The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.
Source: Midnight Mass.
Into a world unknown,-the corner-stone of a nation!
Source: The Courtship of Miles Standish. iv.
Write on your doors the saying wise and old. "Be bold!" and everywhere - "Be bold; Be not too bold!" Yet better the excess Than the defect; better the more than less sustaineth him and the steadiness of his mind beareth him out.
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