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Populāri fragmenti

359. lappuse - No life Can be pure in its purpose and strong in its strife And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
48. lappuse - We may live without poetry, music, and art ; We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. He may live without books, — what is knowledge but grieving ? He may live without hope, — what is hope but deceiving ? He may live without love, — what is passion but pining ? But where is the man that can live without dining ? XX.
360. lappuse - Honest love, honest sorrow. Honest work for the day, honest hope for the morrow. Are these worth nothing more than the hand they make weary. The heart they have saddened, the life they leave dreary? Hush ! the sevenfold heavens to the voice of the spirit Echo: "He that o'ercometh shall all things inherit.
313. lappuse - Life's sorrows still fluctuate : God's love does not. And His love is unchanged, when it changes our lot. Looking up to this light, which is common to all, And down to these shadows, on each side, that fall In time's silent circle, so various for each, Is it nothing to know that they never can reach So far, but what light lies beyond them forever...
125. lappuse - O Nature, how fair is thy face, And how light is thy heart, and how friendless thy grace ! Thou false mistress of man ! thou dost sport with him lightly In his hours of ease and enjoyment ; and brightly Dost thou smile to his smile ; to his joys thou inclinest, But his sorrows, thou knowest them not, nor divinest. While he...
48. lappuse - Hath unpunish'd forgotten the hour of his dinner! Indigestion, that conscience of every bad stomach, Shall relentlessly gnaw and pursue him with some ache Or some pain; and trouble, remorseless, his best ease, As the Furies once troubled the sleep of Orestes.
358. lappuse - The mission of woman on earth ! to give birth To the mercy of Heaven descending on earth. The mission of woman : permitted to bruise The head of the serpent, and sweetly infuse, Through the sorrow and sin of earth's register'd curse, The blessing which mitigates all : born to nurse, And to soothe, and to solace, to help and to heal The sick world that leans on her.
92. lappuse - The crouch'd hollows and all the oracular hills With dread voices of power. A roused million or more Of wild echoes reluctantly rise from their hoar Immemorial ambush, and roll in the wake Of the cloud, whose reflection leaves livid the lake.
309. lappuse - To thee, and to others, alive yet" . . . she said . . . "So long as there liveth the poor gift in me Of this ministration ; to them, and to thee, Dead in all things beside. A French Nun, whose vocation Is now by this bedside. A nun hath no nation. Wherever man suffers, or woman may soothe, There her land ! there her kindred...

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