The shell must break before the bird can fly. |
The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist |
The toppling crags of Duty scaled/ Are close upon the shining table-lands/ To which our God Himself is moon and sun. |
The voice of the dead was a living voice to me. |
The woman is so hard upon the woman |
The world which credits what is done/ Is cold to all that might have been. |
The world will not believe a man repents; And this wise world of ours is mainly right |
Their's not to make reply, Their's not to reason why, Their's but to do and die |
There has fallen a splendid tear/ From the passion-flower at the gate./ She is coming, my dove, my dear;/ She is coming, my life, my fate,/ The red rose cries, `She is near, she is near':/ And the white rose weeps, `She is late'. |
There is more faith in an honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds |
There is no joy but calm |
There lives more faith in honest doubt, believe me, than in half the creeds. |
There's no glory like those who save their country. |
Things seen are mightier than things heard. |
This gray spirit yearning in desire/ To follow knowledge like a sinking star,/ Beyond the utmost bound of human thought. |