Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name?
ABRAHAM COLESO loving woman, man’s fulfillment, sweet, Completing him not otherwise complete! How void and useless the sad remnant left Were he of her, his nobler part, bereft.
More Abraham Coles Quotes
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None of the prophets old, So lofty or so bold! No form of danger shakes his dauntless breast; In loneliness sublime
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True love is humble, thereby is it known; Girded for service, seeking not its own; Vaunts not itself, but speaks in self-dispraise.
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On eyes that watch as well as eyes that weep Descends the solemn mystery of sleep, Toiling and climbing to the very close
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Fling out, fling out, with cheer and shout, To all the winds of Our Country’s Banner!
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The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
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No counter proof can equal the force of that drawn from His attributes. It is an indecency and a calumny to impute to Christ conduct which requires apology.
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I value science–none can prize it more, It gives ten thousand motives to adore: Be it religious, as it ought to be, The heart it humbles, and it bows the knee.
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Poetry is unfallen speech. Paradise knew no other, for no other would suffice to answer the need of those ecstatic days of innocence.
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Taking our stand on the immovable rock of Christ’s character we risk nothing in saying that the wine of miracle answered to the wine of nature, and was not intoxicating.
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He dares confront the time, And speak the truth, and give the world no rest No kingly threat can cowardize his breath, He with majestic step goes forth to meet his death.
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Eternity! How know we but we stand On the precipitous and crumbling verge Of Time e’en now, Eternity below?
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The power to bind and loose to Truth is given: The mouth that speaks it is the mouth of Heaven
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Be every bar, and every star, Displayed in full and glorious manner! Blow, zephyrs, blow, keep the dear ensign flying! Blow, zephyrs, sweetly mournful, sighing, sighing, sighing!
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Within a bony labrinthean cave, Reached by the pulse of the aerial wave, This sibyl, sweet, and Mystic Sense is found, Muse, that presides o’er all the Powers of Sound.
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Where our fathers in fight, nobly strove for the Right, Struck down their fierce foemen or put them to flight
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