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Home  »  Familiar Quotations  »  Alexander Smith 1830-1867 John Bartlett

John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.

Alexander Smith 1830-1867 John Bartlett

 
1
    Like a pale martyr in his shirt of fire.
          A Life Drama. Sc. 2.
2
    In winter, when the dismal rain
  Comes down in slanting lines,
And Wind, that grand old harper, smote
  His thunder-harp of pines.
          A Life Drama. Sc. 2.
3
    A poem round and perfect as a star.
          A Life Drama. Sc. 2.
4
              Some books are drenchèd sands
On which a great soul’s wealth lies all in heaps,
Like a wrecked argosy.
          A Life Drama. Sc. 2.
5
    The saddest thing that befalls a soul
Is when it loses faith in God and woman.
          A Life Drama. Sc. 12.
6
    We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, 1 
Who hold an hour’s converse, so short, so sweet;
One little hour! And then, away they speed
On lonely paths, through mist and cloud and foam,
To meet no more.
          A Life Drama. Part iv.
7
    We hear the wail of the remorseful winds
In their strange penance. And this wretched orb
Knows not the taste of rest; a maniac world,
Homeless and sobbing through the deep she goes.
          Unrest and Childhood.
8
    The soul of man is like the rolling world,
One half in day, the other dipt in night;
The one has music and the flying cloud,
The other, silence and the wakeful stars.
          Horton.
9
              Each time we love,
We turn a nearer and a broader mark
To that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.
          City Poem: A Boy’s Dream.
10
    Time has fallen asleep in the afternoon sunshine.
          City Poem: Dreamthorpe.
  
  
  
11
      The man who in this world can keep the whiteness of his soul is not likely to lose it in any other.
          City Poem: Dreamthorpe.
12
      Death is the ugly fact which Nature has to hide, and she hides it well.
          City Poem: The Fear of Dying.
13
      Everything is sweetened by risk.
          City Poem: The Fear of Dying.
14
      In life there is nothing more unexpected and surprising than the arrivals and departures of pleasure. If we find it in one place to-day, it is vain to seek it there to-morrow. You can not lay a trap for it.
          City Poem: The Fear of Dying.
 
Note 1.
Longfellow: The Theologian’s Tale: Elizabeth, page 644. Thomas Moore: The Meeting of the Ships, page 644, note. Edward Bulwer-Lytton: A Lament, page 631. [back]