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] |