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; In the primal sympathy Which having been must ever be...
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.