O 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.
ABRAHAM COLESWithin 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.
More Abraham Coles Quotes
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With dazzling pomp descending angels sung Good will and peace to men, to God due praise, Who on the errand of salvation sent
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Who has not seen that feeling born of flame Crimson the cheek at mention of a name?
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Words are freeborn, and not the vassals of the gruff tyrants of prose to do their bidding only. They have the same right to dance and sing as the dewdrops have to sparkle and the stars to shine.
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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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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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The grave, where sets the orb of being, sets To rise, ascend, and culminate above Eternity’s horizon evermore.
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The weary Body, longing for repose, On the gained level of the day’s ascent, Halts for the night and pitches there its tent.
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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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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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Death separates, but it also unites. It reunites whom it separates.
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Thee, Son Beloved! of plural Unity Essential part, made flesh that mad’st all worlds.
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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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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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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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The rapturous touch of some divine surpriseFlash deep suffusion of celestial dyes
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