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beauty better break breast breath brow dare dead death doubt drop Duke earth eyes face fall fear feel fire flesh flowers gain gave give gold gone grew grow hair half hand head hear heard heart heaven hold hope Italy keep King lady laugh leave less light lips live look man's mean mind never night o'er once paint pass past perfect play poor praise pride prove reached rest ride rose round seemed side sleep smile soul speak stand star stopped sure sweet tell thee thing thou thought thro Till took touch true truth turn wait wall watch whole wide youth
Page 341 - Thoughts hardly to be packed Into a narrow act, Fancies that broke through language and escaped; All I could never be, All, men ignored in me, This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.
Page 335 - GROW old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made: Our times are in his hand Who saith, "A whole I planned, Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!
Page 246 - All we have willed or hoped or dreamed of good shall exist; Not its semblance, but itself; no beauty, nor good, nor power Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives for the melodist When eternity affirms the conception of an hour. The high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to God by the lover and the bard; Enough that He heard it once: we shall hear it by and by.
Page 244 - But here is the finger of God, a flash of the will that can, Existent behind all laws, that made them and, lo, they are! And I know not if, save in this, such gift be allowed to man, That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound, hut a star.
Page 69 - Shakespeare was of us, Milton was for us, Burns, Shelley, were with us, — they watch from their graves! He alone breaks from the van and the freemen, — He alone sinks to the rear and the slaves! We shall march prospering, — not thro...
Page 69 - THE LOST LEADER. JUST for a handful of silver he left us, Just for a riband to stick in his coat — Found the one gift of which fortune bereft us, Lost all the others, she lets us devote; They, with the gold to give, doled him out silver...
Page 191 - Noon strikes, — here sweeps the procession! our Lady borne smiling and smart With a pink gauze gown all spangles, and seven swords stuck in her heart!
Page 332 - Would I suffer for him that I love? So wouldst thou — so wilt thou ! So shall crown thee the topmost, ineffablest, uttermost crown — And thy love fill infinitude wholly, nor leave up nor down One spot for the creature to stand in!