He raised a mortal to the skies;
She drew an angel down.
Blessed influence of one true loving human
soul on another.
O may I join the choir invisible
Of those immortal dead who live again
In minds made better by their presence; live
In pulses stirred to generosity,
In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn
For miserable aims that end with self.
In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars,
And with their mild persistence urge man's search
To vaster issues.
Nor knowest thou what argument
Thy life to thy neighbor's creed has lent,
All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone
Ah, qui jamais auroit pu dire
Que ce petit nez retroussé
Changerait les lois d'un empire.
Ah, who could have ever foretold that that little retroussé nose would change the laws of an empire.
A little leaven leaveneth the whole lump.
Nor ease nor peace that heart can know,
That like the needle true,
Turns at the touch of joy or woe;
But turning, trembles too.
Lay ye down the golden chain
From Heaven, and pull at its inferior links
Both Goddesses and Gods.
Spontaneously to God should turn the soul,
Like the magnetic needle to the pole;
But what were that intrinsic virtue worth.
Suppose some fellow, with more zeal than knowledge,
Fresh from St. Andrew's College,
Should nail the conscious needle to the north?
Our life's a flying shadow, God the pole,
The needle pointing to Him is our soul.
So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.
The very room, coz she was in,
Seemed warm f'om floor to ceilin'.
You've got to save your own soul first, and then the souls of your neighbors if they will let you; and for that reason you must cultivate, not a spirit of criticism, but the talents that attract people to the hearing of the Word.
No life
Can be pure in its purpose or strong in its strife
And all life not be purer and stronger thereby.
No star ever rose or set without influence somewhere.
Even here Thy strong magnetic charms I feel,
And pant and tremble like the amorous steel.
To lower good, and beauties less divine,
Sometimes my erroneous needle does incline;
But yet (so strong the sympathy)
It turns, and points again to Thee.
Si possem sanior essem.
Sed trahit invitam nova vis; aliudque Cupido,
Mens aliud.
If it were in my power, I would be wiser; but a newly felt power carries me off in spite of myself; love leads me one way, my understanding another.
