All Life needs for life is possible to will.
Sweet and low, sweet and low, Wind of the western sea, Low, low, breathe and blow, Wind of the western sea! Over the rolling waters go, Come from the dying moon, and blow, Blow him again to me; While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, Father will come to thee soon; Rest, rest, on mother's breast, Father will come to thee soon; Father will come to his babe in the nest, Silver sails all out of the west Under the silver moon: Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
There she weaves by night and day, A magic web with colors gay. She has heard a whisper say, A curse is on her if she stay, To look down to Camelot. She knows not what the curse may be, And so she weaveth steadily, And little other care hath she, The Lady of Shalott.
A simple maiden in her flower, Is worth a hundred coats of arms.
She left the web, she left the loom, She made three paces through the room, She saw the water-lily bloom, She saw the helmet and the plume, She look'd down to Camelot. Out flew the web and floated wide; The mirror crack'd from side to side; "The curse is come upon me," cried The Lady of Shalott.
I am half-sick of shadows,' said The Lady of Shalott.
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.
The wind sounds like a silver wire, And from beyond the noon a fire Is pour'd upon the hills, and nigher The skies stoop down in their desire; And, isled in sudden seas of light, My heart, pierced thro' with fierce delight, Bursts into blossom in his sight.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees: all times I have enjoyed Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those That loved me, and alone.
Woman is the lesser man.
The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.
Every man at time of Death, Would fain set forth some saying that may live After his death and better humankind; For death gives life's last word a power to live, And, lie the stone-cut epitaph, remain After the vanished voice, and speak to men.
Sunset and evening star, And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea.
We needs must love the highest when we see it.
So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold.
I cannot rest from travel; I will drink Life to the lees.
Nature, so far as in her lies, imitates God.
Come, my friends Tis not too late to seek a newer world Push off, and sitting well in order smite The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds To sail beyond the sunset and the baths Of all the western stars, until I die
But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills, And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me, And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’d To dwell in presence of immortal youth, Immortal age beside immortal youth, And all I was, in ashes. - Tithonus
Let observation with extended observation observe extensively.
Men, my brothers, men the workers, ever reaping something new.
I grow in worth, and wit, and sense, Unboding critic-pen, Or that eternal want of pence, Which vexes public men.
In words, like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold
As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her play'd, Blowing the ringlet from the braid.
Through the ages one increasing purpose runs.
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