What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.
What is pride? A rocket that emulates the stars.
The best portion of a good man's life is his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.
That best portion of a man's life, his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and love.
Poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility.
For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.