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Darkness is to space what silence is to sound, i.e., the interval.
Darkness is to space what silence is to sound, i.e., the interval.
Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
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Some write their wrongs in marble: he more just,
Stoop'd down serene and wrote them on the dust,
Trod under foot, the sport of every wind,
Swept from the earth and blotted from his mind,
There, secret in the grave, he bade them lie,
And grieved they could not 'scape the Almighty eye.
As night the life-inclining stars best shows,
So lives obscure the starriest souls disclose.
As night the life-inclining stars best shows,
So lives obscure the starriest souls disclose.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none read more
She dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove,
A maid whom there were none to praise
And very few to love.
Everybody is so talented nowadays that the only people I care to honour as deserving real distinction are those who read more
Everybody is so talented nowadays that the only people I care to honour as deserving real distinction are those who remain in obscurity.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
How often the highest talent lurks in obscurity.
[Lat., Ut saepe summa ingenia in occulto latent!]
How often the highest talent lurks in obscurity.
[Lat., Ut saepe summa ingenia in occulto latent!]
He shone with the greater splendor, because he was not seen.
[Lat., Eo magis praefulgebat quod non videbatur.]
He shone with the greater splendor, because he was not seen.
[Lat., Eo magis praefulgebat quod non videbatur.]