Annual Report

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1892 - Blind
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Page 64 - One impulse from a vernal wood May teach you more of man, Of moral evil and of good Than all the sages can.
Page 212 - Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Page 337 - Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness, And utterly consumed with sharp distress, While all things else have rest from weariness? All things have rest: why should we toil alone, We only toil, who are the first of things, And make perpetual moan, Still from one sorrow to another thrown: Nor ever fold our wings, And cease from wanderings, Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm; Nor harken what the inner spirit sings, "There is no joy but calm!
Page 53 - I saw eternity the other night Like a great ring of pure and endless light, All calm as it was bright; And round beneath it, time in hours, days, years, Driv'n by the spheres, Like a vast shadow moved, in which the world And all her train were hurled...
Page 83 - Convey to this desolate shore Some cordial endearing report Of a land I shall visit no more : My friends, do they now and then send A wish or a thought after me?
Page 223 - The noble sister of Publicola, The moon of Rome ; chaste as the icicle, That's curded by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian's temple : Dear Valeria ! Vol.
Page 87 - Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; The eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes in pain, And dies among his worshippers.
Page 35 - Show all his paces, not a step advance. With the same cement ever sure to bind, We bring to one dead level every mind.
Page 88 - The sweetest lives are those to duty wed, Whose deeds, both great and small, Are close-knit strands of an unbroken thread Where love ennobles all. The world may sound no trumpets, ring no bells— The Book of Life the shining record tells.
Page 152 - Such as the meeting soul may pierce, In notes, with many a winding bout Of linked sweetness long, drawn out With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; The melting voice through mazes running, Untwisting all the chains that tie The hidden soul of harmony ; That Orpheus...

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