Quote #3
Pale in her fading bowers the Summer stands, Like a new Niobe with clasped hands, Silent above the flowers, her children lost, Slain by the arrows of the early Frost.
More from Richard Henry Stoddard
- Silence is the speech of love, The music of the spheres above.
- There are gains for all our losses, There are balms for all our pain: But when youth, the dream, departs, It takes something from our heart…
- We have two lives about us, Two worlds in which we dwell, Within us and without us, Alternate Heaven and Hell:- Without, the somber Real, W…
- Joy may be a miser, But Sorrow's purse is free.
- Not what we would, but what we must Makes up the sum of living; Heaven is both more and less than just In taking and in giving.
- A face at the window, A tap on the pane; Who is it that wants me To-night in the rain?
- It beckons, I follow. Good-by to the light, I am going, O whither? Out into the night.