Familiar Quotations Part 97

Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.

_It is not always May_.

For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest!

_Maidenhood_.

Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet!

_The Goblet of Life_.

O suffering, sad humanity!

O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, and yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried!

_Resignation_.

There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dear lamb is there!

There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair.

The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead.

_The Golden Legend_.

Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

_A Metrical Essay_.

The freeman casting with unpurchased hand The vote that shakes the turrets of the land.

Ay, tear her tattered ensign down!

Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky.

Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the G.o.d of storms, The lightning and the gale.

_Urania_.

Yes, child of suffering, thou mayst well be sure, He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor!-- And, when you stick on conversation's burrs, Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful _urs_.

_The Music-Grinders_.

You think they are crusaders, sent From some infernal clime, To pluck the eyes of Sentiment, And dock the tail of Rhyme, To crack the voice of Melody, And break the legs of Time.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

_The Vision of Sir Launfal_.

And what is so rare as a day in June?

Then, if ever, come perfect days; Then Heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, And over it softly her warm ear lays.

_The Changeling_.

This child is not mine as the first was, I cannot sing it to rest, I cannot lift it up fatherly And bless it upon my breast; Yet it lies in my little one's cradle And sits in my little one's chair, And the light of the heaven she's gone to Transfigures its golden hair.

WILLIAM Ba.s.sE.

1613-1648.