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.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 - 1882)
Source: A Psalm of Life. see Hippocrates
Contributed by: Zaady
Oh, what a glory doth this world put on, for him who with a fervent heart goes forth under the bright and glorious sky, and looks on duties well performed, and days well spent.
God had sifted three kingdoms to find the wheat for this planting.
Source: The Courtship of Miles Standish. iv.
He has singed the beard of the king of Spain.
Source: The Dutch Picture.
Sleep . . . Oh! how I loathe those little slices of death . . . .
There is no greater sorrow Than to be mindful of the happy time In misery.
Source: Inferno. Canto v. Line 121.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Source: Motto, Hyperion. Book i. 15
Oh, fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know ere long,- Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
Source: The Light of Stars.
O suffering, sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried!
Source: The Goblet of Life.
No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
Source: Sunrise on the Hills.
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