Emotions and Feelings

There was an Old Man with a beard, Who said: “It is just as I feared! Two owls and a hen, Four larks and a wren Have all built their nests in my beard.”

How pleasant to know Mr. Lear! Who has written such volumes of stuff! Some think him ill-tempered and queer, But a few think him pleasant enough.

Have you found your life distasteful? My life did and does smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I’ll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.

Have you found your life distasteful? My life did and does smack sweet. Was your youth of pleasure wasteful? Mine I saved and hold complete. Do your joys with age diminish? When mine fail me, I’ll complain. Must in death your daylight finish? My sun sets to rise again.

That far land we dream about, Where every man is his own architect.

Through such souls alone God stooping shows sufficient of His light For us i’ the dark to rise by. And I rise.

’Twas a thief said the last kind word to Christ: Christ took the kindness and forgave the theft.

O Lyric Love, half angel and half bird, And all a wonder and a wild desire.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life’s arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold.

No! let me taste the whole of it, fare like my peers, The heroes of old, Bear the brunt, in a minute pay glad life’s arrears Of pain, darkness, and cold.

How sad and bad and mad it was— But then, how it was sweet!

Fear death?—to feel the fog in my throat, The mist in my face.

The best way to escape His ire Is, not to seem too happy.

Look not thou down but up!

Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth’s smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth’s smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

What I aspired to be, And was not, comforts me.

Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be, The last of life, for which the first was made. Our times are in his hand.

’Tis not what man does which exalts him, but what man would do!

No, when the fight begins within himself, A man’s worth something.

You call for faith: I show you doubt, to prove that faith exists. The more of doubt, the stronger faith, I say, If faith o’ercomes doubt.

I am grown peaceful as old age tonight.

He ventured neck or nothing—heaven’s success Found, or earth’s failure.

To dry one’s eyes and laugh at a fall, And baffled, get up and begin again.