The Song of Love, the Song of Hate, the Songs of Praise and of Thanksgiving; I've learned them all, but there remains one called the Melody of Living.
The Song of Love, the Song of Hate, the Songs of Praise and of Thanksgiving; I've learned them all, but there remains one called the Melody of … - Ridgely Torrence
The Song of Love, the Song of Hate, the Songs of Praise and of Thanksgiving; I've learned them all, but there remains one called the Melody of …
- Ridgely Torrence
I saw them kissing in the shade and knew the sum of all my lore: God gave them Youth, God gave them Love, and even God can give no more. - Ridgely Torrence
I saw them kissing in the shade and knew the sum of all my lore: God gave them Youth, God gave them Love, and even God can give no more.
Though man or angel judge my life and read it like an open scroll, And weigh my heart, I have judge more just than any—my own soul. - Ridgely Torrence
Though man or angel judge my life and read it like an open scroll, And weigh my heart, I have judge more just than any—my own soul.
But work a year and sleep an hour, and sleep a night and sing a day, And take a little wine and love, and when you feel religious—pray. - Ridgely Torrence
But work a year and sleep an hour, and sleep a night and sing a day, And take a little wine and love, and when you feel religious—pray.
Whether my days are cooled with calm or filled with fever's ardent taint, I have the same blue sky as God, I have the same God as the saint. - Ridgely Torrence
Whether my days are cooled with calm or filled with fever's ardent taint, I have the same blue sky as God, I have the same God as the saint.
Girl, when he gives you kisses twain, use one, and let the other stay; And hoard it, for moons die, red fades, and you may need a kiss—some day. - Ridgely Torrence
Girl, when he gives you kisses twain, use one, and let the other stay; And hoard it, for moons die, red fades, and you may need a kiss—some day.
Tell Youth to play with Wine and Love and never bear away the scars! I may as well tilt up the sky and yet try not to spill the stars. - Ridgely Torrence
Tell Youth to play with Wine and Love and never bear away the scars! I may as well tilt up the sky and yet try not to spill the stars.
At first, she loved nought else but flowers, And then-she only loved the rose; And then-herself alone; and then- She knew not what, but now-she kn… - Ridgely Torrence
At first, she loved nought else but flowers, And then-she only loved the rose; And then-herself alone; and then- She knew not what, but now-she kn…
A strong, brave man is born each month, each year God gives a sage to men, A poet each ten years, perhaps, but an unselfish person,—when? - Ridgely Torrence
A strong, brave man is born each month, each year God gives a sage to men, A poet each ten years, perhaps, but an unselfish person,—when?
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