The Life and Letters of John Burroughs, Volume 2

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Houghton Mifflin, 1925
 

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Page 32 - To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, To throw a perfume on the violet, To smooth the ice, or add another hue Unto the rainbow, or with taper-light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish, Is wasteful, and ridiculous excess.
Page 145 - Were things indifferent to the shepherd's thoughts. Fields where with cheerful spirits he had breathed The common air ; the hills which he so oft Had climbed with vigorous steps, which had impressed So many incidents upon his mind Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear...
Page 26 - THEY told me, Heraclitus, they told me you were dead ; They brought me bitter news to hear and bitter tears to shed. I wept, as I remembered, how often you and I Had tired the sun with talking and sent him down the sky.
Page 16 - And drown'd in yonder living blue The lark becomes a sightless song. Now dance the lights on lawn and lea, The flocks are whiter down the vale, And milkier every milky sail On winding stream or distant sea ; Where now the seamew pipes, or dives In yonder greening gleam, and fly The happy birds, that change their sky To build and brood ; that live their lives From land to land ; and in my breast Spring wakens too ; and my regret Becomes an April violet, And buds and blossoms like the rest.
Page 104 - Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves.
Page 145 - Of hardship, skill or courage, joy or fear; Which, like a book, preserved the memory Of the dumb animals, whom he had saved, Had fed or sheltered, linking to such acts The certainty of honourable gain; Those fields, those hills — what could they less?
Page 302 - Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last— far off— at last, to all, And every winter change to spring. So runs my dream; but what am I? An infant crying in the night; An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry.
Page 304 - King David and King Solomon Led merry, merry lives, With many, many lady friends And many, many wives; But when old age crept over them, With many, many qualms, King Solomon wrote the Proverbs And King David wrote the Psalms.

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