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There must be room for penitence to mend Life's broken chance else noise of wars would unmake heaven.

Alice Cary

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Alice Cary
Age: 50 †
Born: 1820
Born: April 26
Died: 1871
Died: February 12
Author
Novelist
Poet
Suffragist
Writer
Cincinnati
Ohio
Alice Cary
Life
Room
Rooms
Chance
Unmake
Heaven
Penitence
War
Mend
Else
Wars
Must
Noise
Would
Broken

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Every life is meant to help all lives each man should live for all men's betterment.
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There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth.
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Not what we think, but what we do, / Makes saints of us: all stiff and cold, / The outlines of the corpse show through / The cloth of gold.
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True worth is in being, not seeming
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He who loves best his fellow-man, is loving God the holiest way he can.
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Shut up the door: who loves me must not look / Upon the withered world, but haste to bring / His lighted candle, and his story-book, / And live with me the poetry of spring.
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I sit where the leaves of the maple and the gnarled and knotted gum are circling and drifting around me.
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With hand on the spade and heart in the sky Dress the ground and till it Turn in the little seed, brown and dry, Turn out the golden millet. Work, and your house shall be duly fed: Work, and rest shall be won I hold that a man had better be dead Than alive when his work is done.
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How many lives we live in one, And how much less than one, in all.
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My soul is full of whispered song,-My blindness is my sightThe shadows that I feared so longAre full of life and light.
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True worth is in being, not seeming- In doing, each day that goes by, Some little good, not in the dreaming Of great things to do by and by. For whatever men say in their blindness, And spite of the fancies of youth, There's nothing so kingly as kindness, And nothing so royal as truth.
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I hold that a man had better be dead than alive when his work is done.
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For he who is honest is noble, Whatever his fortunes or birth.
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Yea, when mortality dissolves, Shall I not meet thine hour unawed? My house eternal in the heavens Is lighted by the smile of God!
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The attempt is all the wedge that splits its knotty way betwixt the impossible and possible.
Alice Cary
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Desolate--Life is so dreary and desolate-- Women and men in the crowd meet and mingle, Yet with itself every soul standeth single, Deep out of sympathy moaning its moan-- Holding and having its brief exultation-- Making its lonesome and low lamentation-- Fighting its terrible conflicts alone.
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We serve Him most who take the most of His exhaustless love.
Alice Cary
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Even for the dead I will not bind my soul to grief, death cannot long divide for is it not as if the rose that climbed my garden wall had bloomed the other side?
Alice Cary
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The path of duty I clearly trace, / I stand with conscience face to face, / And all her pleas allow / Calling and crying the while for grace, - / 'Some other time, and some other place / Oh, not to-day not now!
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We cannot make bargains for blisses, / Nor catch them like fishes in nets / And sometimes the thing our life misses, / Helps more than the thing which it gets.
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