Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.

Strange to the world, he wore a bashful look,
The fields his study, nature was his book.

No one who cannot rejoice in the discovery of his own mistakes deserves to be called a scholar

No one who cannot rejoice in the discovery of his own mistakes deserves to be called a scholar

Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
read more

Ah, pensive scholar, what is fame?
A fitful tongue of leaping flame;
A giddy whirlwind's fickle gust,
That lifts a pinch of mortal dust;
A few swift years, and who can show
Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe?

The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort, is not fit to be
deemed a scholar.

The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort, is not fit to be
deemed a scholar.

The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor
its great scholars great men.

The world's great men have not commonly been great scholars, nor
its great scholars great men.

Today's students can put dope in their veins or hope in their brains. If they can conceive it and believe read more

Today's students can put dope in their veins or hope in their brains. If they can conceive it and believe it, they can achieve it. They must know it is not their aptitude but their attitude that will determine their altitude.

And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.

And with unwearied fingers drawing out
The lines of life, from living knowledge hid.

The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are read more

The studious class are their own victims; they are thin and pale,
their feet are cold, their heads are hot, the night is without
sleep, the day a fear of interruption,--pallor, squalor, hunger,
and egotism. If you come near them and see what conceits they
entertain--they are abstractionists, and spend their days and
nights in dreaming some dream; in expecting the homage of society
to some precious scheme built on a truth, but destitute of
proportion in its presentment, of justness in its application,
and of all energy of will in the schemer to embody and vitalize
it.

Rocking on a lazy billow
With roaming eyes,
Cushioned on a dreamy pillow,
Thou read more

Rocking on a lazy billow
With roaming eyes,
Cushioned on a dreamy pillow,
Thou art now wise.
Wake the power within thee slumbering,
Trim the plot that's in thy keeping,
Thou wilt bless the task when reaping
Sweet labour's prize.