Life and Letters of Louis Moreau GottschalkDitson, 1870 - 213 sider |
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Side 161 - Love thyself last: cherish those hearts that hate thee; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not. Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell, Thou fall'st a blessed martyr!
Side 145 - Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood. I know you, Clara Vere de Vere, You pine among your halls and towers: The languid light of your proud eyes Is wearied of the rolling hours.
Side 21 - ... seemed the harmonious echo From our discordant life. It linked all perplexed meanings Into one perfect peace, And trembled away into silence As if it were loth to cease. I have sought, but I seek it vainly, That one lost chord divine, Which came from the soul of the Organ, And entered into mine.
Side 73 - COURAGE!' he said, and pointed toward the land, 'This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon.' In the afternoon they came unto a land In which it seemed always afternoon. All round the coast the languid air did swoon, Breathing like one that hath a weary dream.
Side 17 - And there shall in no wise enter into it any thing that defileth, neither whatsoever worketh abomination, or maketh a lie : but they which are written in the Lamb's book of life.
Side 35 - All my life long, I have beheld with most respect the man Who knew himself, and knew the ways before him, And from amongst them chose considerately, With a clear foresight, not a blindfold courage ; And having chosen, with a steadfast mind Pursued his purposes.
Side 150 - Nor named thee but to praise. Tears fell when thou wert dying, From eyes unused to weep, And long, where thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven, Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth...
Side 150 - ... thou art lying, Will tears the cold turf steep. When hearts, whose truth was proven, Like thine, are laid in earth, There should a wreath be woven To tell the world their worth. And I, who woke each morrow To clasp thy hand in mine, Who shared thy joy and sorrow, Whose weal and woe were thine : It should be mine to braid it Around thy faded brow, But I've in vain essayed it, And feel I cannot now.
Side 17 - God shall wipe away all tears : and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow nor crying. Neither shall there be any more pain ; for the former things are passed away.
Side 35 - No one need pride himself upon Genius, for it is the free gift of God ; but of honest Industry and true devotion to his destiny any man may well be proud ; indeed this thorough Integrity of Purpose is itself the Divine Idea in its most common form, and no really honest mind is without communion with God.