Life and Existence

No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.

 

No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly longed for death.

 

I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.

 

I know that age to age succeeds, Blowing a noise of tongues and deeds, A dust of systems and of creeds.

 

She said, “I am aweary, aweary, I would that I were dead!”

 

There hath he lain for ages and will lie Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep, Until the latter fire shall heat the deep; Then once by man and angels to be seen, In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

 

End of the wonderful one-hoss shay. Logic is logic. That’s all I say.

 

And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling.

 

Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day?

 

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past!

 

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, As the swift seasons roll! Leave thy low-vaulted past!

 

There is no time like the old time, when you and I were young.

 

By many a temple half as old as Time.

 

Who reflects too much will accomplish little.

 

The mountain cannot frighten one who was born on it.

 

There’s no such thing as chance; And what to us seems merest accident Springs from the deepest source of destiny.

 

If you want to know yourself, Just look how others do it; If you want to understand others, Look into your own heart.

 

O who knows what slumbers in the background of the times?

 

O who knows what slumbers in the background of the times?

 

Great souls suffer in silence.

 

What one refuses in a minute No eternity will return.

 

There are three lessons I would write, Three words as with a burning pen, In tracings of eternal light Upon the hearts of men.

 

Teach us, good Lord, to serve Thee as Thou deservest: To give and not to count the cost; To fight and not to heed the wounds; To toil and not to seek for rest; To labor and not ask for any reward Save that of knowing that we do Thy will.

 

Yisterday fair up sprang the flouris, This day thai are all slane with schouris; And fowles in forrest that sang cleir Now walkis with a drery cheir; Full caild are baith thair beddis and bouris.