Sunrays, leaning on our southern hills and lighting Wild cloud-mountains that drag the hills along, Oft ends the day of your shifting brilliant laughter Chill as a dull face frowning on a song. Ay, but shows the South-west a ripple-feathered bosom Blown to silver while the clouds are shaken and ascend Scaling the mid-heavens as they stream, there comes a sunset Rich, deep like love in beauty without end.
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Not till the fire is dying in the grate, Look we for any kinship with the stars. Oh, wisdom never comes when it is gold, And the great price we paid for it full worth: We have it only when we are half earth. Little avails that coinage to the old!
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The most dire disaster in love is the death of imagination.
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Speech is the small change of silence.
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Who rises from a prayer a better man, his prayer is answered.
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Kissing don't last: cookery do!
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I expect Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man.
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Not a breath of wild air; Still as the mosses that glow On the flooring and over the lines
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There is nothing the body suffers which the soul may not profit by.
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Caricature is rough truth.
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But O the truth, the truth. The many eyes That look on it! The diverse things they see.
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But O the truth, the truth. The many eyes That look on it The diverse things they see.
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I expect that Woman will be the last thing civilized by Man.
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But O the truth, the truth. The
many eyes
That look on it! The diverse things
they see.
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