Hearing often-times; The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power; To chasten and subdue.
Hearing often-times; The still, sad music of humanity, Nor harsh nor grating, though of ample power; To chasten and subdue.
I 've heard of hearts unkind, kind deeds With coldness still returning Alas the gratitude of men Hath oftener left me mourning.
Of blessed consolations in distress.
More skilful in self-knowledge, even more pure, As tempted more more able to endure, As more exposed to suffering and distress.
Sad fancies do we then affect, In luxury of disrespect To our own prodigal excess Of too familiar happiness.
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain That has been, and may be again.
Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod.
For I have learned to look on nature, not as in the hour of thoughtless youth, but hearing oftentimes the still, sad music of humanity.
Lost in the gloom of uninspired research.
Thou has left behind Powers that will work for thee,air, earth, and skies There 's not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee thou hast great allies Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man's unconquerable mind.
Many are our joysIn youth, but oh what happiness to liveWhen every hour brings palpable accessOf knowledge, when all knowledge is delight,And sorrow is not there
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories