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Updated: May 19, 2025
If thou art one who tradeth in both ways, God's now, the devil's then; or if delays Thou mak'st of coming to thy God for life; Or if thy light, and lusts are at a strife About who should be master of thy soul, And lovest one, the other dost control; These prophets tell thee can, which way thou bendest, On which thou frown'st, to which a hand thou lendest.
Let us not so wrong and vilify the bounty of Providence, as to allow for a moment that the sources of innocent amusement are so rare, that men must be driven, almost by constraint, to such as are of a doubtful quality. Not content With every food of life to nourish man, Thou mak'st all nature beauty to his eye And music to his ear.
O fair dead world, that from thy grave awak'st A little while, And in our heart strange revolution mak'st With thy brief smile! O beauties vanished, fair lips magical, Heroic braves! O mighty hearts, that held the world in thrall! Come from your graves! The Poet sees you through a mist of tears, Such depths divide Him, with the love and passion of his years, From you, inside!
And now because thy shaft has grazed my foot, thou mak'st thy empty boast. And every valiant person is likened to a lion, boar, to a torrent and whirlwind. Now the Peripatetics think that freedom from emotion is unattainable by men. They bring in a certain mean; by taking away excess of feeling, they define virtue by moderation.
Ah, never master that drew mortal breath Can match thy portraits, just and generous Death, Whose brush with sweet regretful tints is laden! Thou paintest that which struggled here below Half understood, or understood for woe, And, with a sweet forewarning, Mak'st round the sacred front an aureole glow Woven of that light that rose on Easter morning. Homoeopathic Domestic Physician, etc., etc.
Thou mak'st me humbly wishfo' to be more like thee, and fearfo' to lose thee when this life is ower, and a' the muddle cleared awa'. Thou'rt an Angel; it may be, thou hast saved my soul alive! She looked at him, on his knee at her feet, with her shawl still in his hand, and the reproof on her lips died away when she saw the working of his face. 'I coom home desp'rate.
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