How good is man's life, the mere living! how fit to employ
All the heart and the soul and the senses forever in joy!
'T is not what man does which exalts him, but what man would do.
O woman-country!wooed not wed,
Loved all the more by earth's male-lands,
Laid to their hearts instead.
How he lies in his rights of a man!
Death has done all death can.
And absorbed in the new life he leads,
He recks not, he heeds
Nor his wrong nor my vengeance; both strike
On his senses alike,
And are lost in the solemn and strange
Surprise of the change.
A people is but the attempt of many
To rise to the completer life of one;
And those who live as models for the mass
Are singly of more value than they all.
What? Was man made a wheel-work to wind up,
And be discharged, and straight wound up anew?
No! grown, his growth lasts; taught, he ne'er forgets:
May learn a thousand things, not twice the same.
For I say this is death and the sole death,--
When a man's loss comes to him from his gain,
Darkness from light, from knowledge ignorance,
And lack of love from love made manifest.
Progress, man's distinctive mark alone,
Not God's, and not the beasts': God is, they are;
Man partly is, and wholly hopes to be.
Why comes temptation, but for man to meet
And master and make crouch beneath his foot,
And so be pedestaled in triumph?
White shall not neutralize the black, nor good
Compensate bad in man, absolve him so:
Life's business being just the terrible choice.
There is no truer truth obtainable
By Man than comes of music.
We are spirits clad in veils;
Man by man was never seen;
All our deep communing fails
To remove the shadowy screen.
? John Bartlett, compBut whether on the scaffold high
Or in the battle's van,
The fittest place where man can die
Is where he dies for man!
The smallest effort is not lost,
Each wavelet on the ocean tost
Aids in the ebb-tide or the flow;
Each rain-drop makes some floweret blow;
Each struggle lessens human woe.
Old Tubal Cain was a man of might
In the days when earth was young.
"God bless the man who first invented sleep!"
So Sancho Panza said, and so say I.
Art is man's nature; nature is God's art.
Let each man think himself an act of God,
His mind a thought, his life a breath of God;
And let each try, by great thoughts and good deeds,
To show the most of Heaven he hath in him.
She with one breath attunes the spheres,
And also my poor human heart.
Most of the luxuries and many of the so-called comforts of life are not only not indispensable, but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.
For many years I was self-appointed inspector of snow-storms and rain-storms and did my duty faithfully.
For it stirs the blood in an old man's heart,
And makes his pulses fly,
To catch the thrill of a happy voice
And the light of a pleasant eye.
The sin forgiven by Christ in Heaven
By man is cursed alway.
Better build schoolrooms for "the boy"
Than cells and gibbets for "the man."
I have always believed that success would be the inevitable result if the two services, the army and the navy, had fair play, and if we sent the right man to fill the right place.