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If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in read more
If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power
carries me off in spite of myself; love leads me one way, my
understanding another.
[Lat., Si possem sanior essem.
Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque Cupido,
Mens aliud.]
No life
Can be pure in its purpose or strong in its strife
And all life not read more
No life
Can be pure in its purpose or strong in its strife
And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,
That like the needle true,
Turns at the touch read more
Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,
That like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe;
But turning, trembles too.
Blessed influence of one true loving human soul on another.
Blessed influence of one true loving human soul on another.
The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water
flowing hidden underground, secretly making read more
The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water
flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green.
My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the read more
My heart is feminine, nor can forget--
To all, except one image, madly blind;
So shakes the needle, and so stands the pole,
As vibrates my fond heart to my fix'd soul.
Influencing people is dangerous. Their acts and thoughts become your illegitimate children. You can't get away from them and Heaven read more
Influencing people is dangerous. Their acts and thoughts become your illegitimate children. You can't get away from them and Heaven knows what they mayn't grow up into.
Be a pattern to others, and then all will go well; for as a whole
city is affected by read more
Be a pattern to others, and then all will go well; for as a whole
city is affected by the licentious passions and vices of great
men, so it is likewise reformed by their moderation.
O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made read more
O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end with self.
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge man's search
To vaster issues.