Where the voice of the wind calls our wandering feet, Through echoing forest and echoing street, With lutes in our hands ever-singing we roam, All men are our kindred, the world is our home. Our lays are of cities whose lustre is shed, The laughter and beauty of women long dead; The sword of old battles, the crown of old kings, And happy and simple and sorrowful things. What hope shall we gather, what dreams shall we sow? Where the wind calls our wandering footsteps we go. No love bids us tarry, no joy bids us wait: The voice of the wind is the voice of our fate.
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We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.
Time
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There is in us a lyric germ or nucleus which deserves respect; it bids a man to ponder or create; and in this dim corner of himself he can take refuge and find consolations which the society of his fellow creatures does not provide.
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Wonderful Force of Public Opinion! We must act and walk in all points as it prescribes; follow the traffic it bids us, realize the sum of money, the degree of influence it expects of us, or we shall be lightly esteemed; certain mouthfuls of articulate wind will be blown at us, and this what mortal courage can front?
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But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture, Tell them that God bids us do good for evil. And thus I clothe my naked villainy With odd old ends stolen forth of holy writ, And seem I a saint, when most I play the Devil.
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Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause He noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.
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Let me be a little kinder, Let me be a little blinder To the faults about me; Let me praise a little more, Let me be, when I am weary; Just a little bit more cheery, Let me serve a little better Those that I am striving for. Let me be a little braver When temptation bids me waver, Let me strive a little harder To be all that I should be; Let me be a little meeker to the brother that is weaker; Let me think more of my neighbor and a little less of me.
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Do what thy manhood bids thee do, from none but self expect applause; He noblest lives and noblest dies who makes and keeps his self-made laws.
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But then I sigh, and with a piece of scripture,Tell them that God bids us do good for evil.And thus I clothe my naked villainyWith odd old ends stolen forth of holy writ,And seem I a saint, when most I play the Devil.
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The only thing of weight that can be said against modern honor is that it is directly opposite to religion. The one bids you bear injuries with patience, the other tells you if you don't resent them, you are not fit to live.
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My non-violence bids me dedicate myself to the service of the minorities.
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There is something almost cruel about the Christian's being placed in a world which in every way wants to pressure him to do the opposite of what God bids him to do.
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Acts 2:39:
'The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off – for all whom the Lord our God will call.'
(NIV)
For the promise [of the Holy Spirit] is to and for you and your children, and to and for all that are far away, [even] to and for as many as the Lord our God invites and bids to come to Himself. [Isa. 57:19; Joel 2:32.](AMP)
For the promise is unto you, and to your children, and to all that are afar off, even as many as the LORD our God shall call.
(KJV)
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