God, from a beautiful necessity, is Love in all he doeth, Love, a brilliant fire, to gladden or consume: The wicked work their woe by looking upon love, and hating it: The righteous find their joys in yearning on its loveliness for ever.
Few and precious are the words which the lips of Wisdom utter: To what shall their rarity be likened? What prices shall count their worth? Perfect, and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches, No lovely thing on earth can picture their fair beauty. They be chance pearls, flung among the rocks by the sullen waters of Oblivion.
Solitude delighteth well to feed on many thoughts; There as thou sittest peaceful, communing with fancy, The precious poetry of life shall gild its leaden cares; There, as thou walkest by the sea beneath the gentle stars, Many kindling seeds of good will sprout within thy soul; Thou shalt weep in Solitude,--thou shalt pray in Solitude. Thou shalt sing for joy of heart, and praise the grace of Solitude.
Our cares are all To-day, our joys are all To-day; And in one little word, our life, what is it but--To-day?
A man too careful of danger liveth in continual torment, But a cheerful expecter of the best hath a fountain of joy within him.
Love--what a volume in a word, an ocean in a tear, A seventh heaven in a glance, a whirlwind in a sigh, The lightning in a touch, a millennium in a moment, What concentrated joy or woe in blest or blighted love! For it is that native poetry springing up indigenous to Mind, The heart's own-country music thrilling all its chords, The story without an end that angels throng to hear, The word, the king of words, carved on Jehovah's heart!
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: