Maxioms by James Russell Lowell
The purely Great
Whose soul no siren passion could unsphere,
Thou nameless, now a power and mixed read more
The purely Great
Whose soul no siren passion could unsphere,
Thou nameless, now a power and mixed with fate.
The mind can weave itself warmly in the cocoon of its own thoughts, and dwell a hermit anywhere.
The mind can weave itself warmly in the cocoon of its own thoughts, and dwell a hermit anywhere.
An appeal to the reason of the people has never been known to fail in the long run.
An appeal to the reason of the people has never been known to fail in the long run.
No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
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No man is born into the world whose work
Is not born with him: there is always work,
And tools to work withal, for those who will;
And blessed are the horny hand of toil!
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is read more
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is struck, the vision stays;
I only know she came and went.
