Life and Existence
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Age does not make us childish, as they say. It only finds us true children still.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Age does not make us childish, as they say. It only finds us true children still.
William Cowper
No voice divine the storm allayed, When, snatched from all effectual aid, But I beneath a rougher sea, And whelmed in deeper gulfs than he.
William Cowper
Toll for the brave— The brave! that are no more; All sunk beneath the wave, Fast by their native shore!
William Cowper
There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleas’d With melting airs or martial, brisk, or grave: Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.
William Cowper
From reveries so airy, from the toil Of dropping buckets into empty wells, And growing old in drawing nothing up.
William Cowper
God moves in a mysterious way His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm.
Oliver Goldsmith
How happy he who crowns in shades like these, A youth of labor with an age of ease.
Oliver Goldsmith
How happy he who crowns in shades like these, A youth of labor with an age of ease.
Oliver Goldsmith
His best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
Oliver Goldsmith
The only art her guilt to cover, To hide her shame from every eye, To give repentance to her lover, And wring his bosom, is—to die.
Oliver Goldsmith
They please, are pleas’d, they give to get esteem, Till, seeming blest, they grow to what they seem. 2