And he who gives a child a treat Makes joy-bells ring in Heaven's street, And he who gives a child a home Builds palaces in Kingdom come, And she who gives a baby birth Brings Saviour Christ again to Earth. |
Coming in solemn beauty like slow old tunes of Spain. |
Commonplace people dislike tragedy because they dare not suffer and cannot exult. |
His face was filled with broken commandments |
His face was filled with broken commandments |
I must down to the sea again, for the call of the running tide / Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied. |
I must down to the seas again to the vagrant gypsy life,To the gull's way and the whale's way where the wind's like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's o |
I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky; and all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by. |
In the power and splendor of the universe, inspiration waits for the millions to come. Man has only to strive for it. Poems greater than the Iliad, plays greater than Macbeth, stories more engaging than Don Quixote await their seeker and finder. |
In this life he laughs longest who laughs last. |
It is too maddening. I've got to fly off, right now, to some devilish navy yard, three hours in a seasick steamer, and after being heartily sick, I'll have to speak three times, and then I'll be sick coming home. Still, who would not be sick for England? |
It's a warm wind, the west wind, full of birds' cries. |
Laugh and be merry, remember, better the world with a song. / Better the world with a blow in the teeth of a wrong. |
My race being run, I love to watch the race |
Oh some are fond of Spanish wine, and some are fond of French. |