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One brave deed makes no hero.
God's colors all are fast.
When faith is lost, when honor dies, the man is dead.
From the death of the old the new proceeds, and the life of truth from the death of creeds.
The best of a book is not the thought which it contains, but the thought which it suggests; just as the charm of music dwells not in the tones but in the echoes of our hearts.
Before me, even as behind, God is, and all is well.
The smile of God is victory.
Beauty seen is never lost, God's colors all are fast.
No longer forward or behind I look in hope or fear, But grateful, take the good I find, The best of now and here.
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune's bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
For all sad words of tongue and pen, The saddest are these, 'It might have been'.
Tradition wears a snowy beard, romance is always young.
Peace hath higher tests of manhood, than battle ever knew.
All the windows of my heart I open to the day.
I'll lift you and you lift me, and we'll both ascend together.
As a small businessperson, you have no greater leverage than the truth.
Low stir of leaves and dip of oars And lapsing waves on quiet shores.
For still the new transcends the old In signs and tokens manifold; Slaves rise up men; the olive waves, With roots deep set in battle graves!
This is truth the poet sings . . .
Bathsheba! to whom none ever said scat- No worthier cat Ever sat on a mat, Or caught a rat. Requiescat!
So fallen! so lost! the light withdrawn Which once he wore; The glory from his gray hairs gone For evermore!
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