Absence from whom we love is worse than death, and frustrates hope severer than despair.
Fate steals along with silent tread, Found oftenest in what least we dread; Frowns in the storm with angry brow, But in the sunshine strikes the blow.
God moves in mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps on the sea and rides upon the storm.
Not a flower But shows some touch, in freckle, streak or stain, Of his unrivall’d pencil.
The only amarantine flower on earth Is virtue.
How various his employments whom the world Calls idle; and who justly in return Esteems that busy world an idler too!
The only am arantine flower on earth Is virtue.
No tree in all the grove but has its charms, Though each its hue peculiar.
Some boundless contiguity of shade.
The man that dares traduce, because he can with safety to himself, is not a man.
Pleasure admitted in undue degree Enslaves the will, nor leaves the judgment free.
That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind.
Satan trembles when he sees the weakest Christian on his knees.
Absence of occupation is not rest, A mind quite vacant is a mind distress’d.
A fool must now and then be right by chance.