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acquaintance American amid asked beauty brothers called calm character child confidence dark dear death desire English enjoy enter expression eyes fear feel felt Florence flowers force French friends gave give given hand happy hear heard heart hope influence interest Italian Italy keep kind knew known learned least leave less letter light live look Madame Margaret means meet mind months morning mother mountains nature never night noble once Ossoli pain passed person picture present pure received remain rest Roman Rome seemed seen side society sometimes soon soul speak spirit suffered sure sweet sympathy talk things thought true turn walk weeks winter wish woman women worthy write young
Seite 2 - For woman is not undevelopt man, But diverse : could we make her as the man, Sweet Love were slain : his dearest bond is this, Not like to like, but like in difference. Yet in the long years liker must they grow ; The man be more of woman, she of man; He gain in sweetness and in moral height, Nor lose the wrestling thews that throw the world ; She mental breadth, nor fail in childward care, Nor lose the childlike in the larger mind ; Till at the last she set herself to man, Like perfect music unto...
Seite 75 - Or mild concerns of ordinary life, A constant influence, a peculiar grace; But who, if he be called upon to face Some awful moment to which Heaven has joined Great issues, good or bad for human kind, Is happy as a lover; and attired With sudden brightness, like a man inspired ; And, through the heat of conflict, keeps the law In calmness made, and sees what he foresaw...
Seite 75 - I go to prove my soul! I see my way as birds their trackless way. I shall arrive ! what time, what circuit first, I ask not: but unless God send his hail Or blinding fireballs, sleet or stifling snow, In some time, his good time, I shall arrive: He guides me and the bird. In his good time!
Seite 2 - That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin'd choirs where late the sweet birds sang.
Seite 1 - He that lacks time to mourn, lacks time to mend. Eternity mourns that. 'Tis an ill cure For life's worst ills, to have no time to feel them. Where sorrow's held intrusive and turned out, There wisdom will not enter, nor true power, Nor aught that dignifies humanity.
Seite 97 - I was quite carried away with the rich flow of his discourse; and the hearty, noble earnestness of his personal being brought back the charm which once was upon his writing, before I wearied of it. I admired his Scotch, his way of singing his great, full sentences, so that each one was like the stanza of a narrative ballad.
Seite 103 - He sings, rather than talks. He pours upon you a kind of satirical, heroical, critical poem, with regular cadences, and generally catching up, near the beginning, some singular epithet, which serves as a refrain when his song is full, or with which, as with a knitting needle, he catches up the stitches, if he has chanced, now and then, to let fall a row.