We flatter those we scarcely know, We please the fleeting guest, And deal full many a thoughtless blow To those who love us best. |
We ought to make the moments notes Of happy glad Thanksgiving; The hours and days, a silent praise Of music we are living. |
What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That's not been said a thousand times? The new years come, the old years go, We know we dream, we dream we know. We rise up laughing with the light, We lie down weeping with the night. We hug the world until it stings, We curse it then and sigh for wings. We live, we love, we woo, we wed, We wreathe our prides, we sheet our dead. We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear, And that's the burden of a year. |
Whatever comes, this too shall pass away. |
Whatever the task that comes your way, Just take it as part of your luck. Look it right square in the eyes, and say, "This is MY task, I'll do it to-day": Don't pass the buck. |
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know. |
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, we hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, and etched on vacant places are half-forgotten faces of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know. |
When the great universe was wrought To might and majesty from naught, The all creative force was - THOUGHT. |
When we tell about our cause, Politicians only smile; While they mould and make our laws, What care they for rank or file? |
When we tire of well-worn ways, we seek for new. This restless craving in the souls of men spurs them to climb, and to seek the mountain view. |
Who is the strong? Not he who puts to test His sinews with the strong and proves the best; But he who dwells where weaklings congregate, And never lets his splendid strength abate. |
Who is the wise? Not he who from the start With Wisdom's followers has taken part; But he who looks in Folly's tempting eyes, And turns away, perceiving her disguise. |
Why sit ye idly dreaming all the day, While the golden, precious hours flit away? See you not the day is waning, waning fast? That the morn's already vanished in the past? |
With care, and skill, and cunning art, She parried Time's malicious dart, And kept the years at bay, Till passion entered in her heart and aged her in a day! |
With every deed you are sowing a seed, though the harvest you may not see. |