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One lamp — thy mother’s love — amid the stars Shall lift its pure flame changeless, and before The throne of God, burn through eternity - Holy — as it was lit and lent thee here.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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Nathaniel Parker Willis
Age: 61 †
Born: 1806
Born: January 20
Died: 1867
Died: January 20
Author
Journalist
Literary Critic
Playwright
Poet
Portland
Maine
Nathanael Parker Willis
Mother
Flames
Lamp
Love
Lifts
Lit
Thee
Throne
Eternity
Lamps
Pure
Thrones
Holy
Flame
Changeless
Shall
Lift
Lent
Stars
Burn
Amid
More quotes by Nathaniel Parker Willis
Your love in a cottage is hungry, Your vine is a nest for flies- Your milkmaid shocks the Graces, And simplicity talks of pies! You lie down to your shady slumber And wake with a bug in your ear, And your damsel that walks in the morning Is shod like a mountaineer.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The soul of man createth its own destiny.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
I'm weary of my lonely but And of its blasted tree, The very lake is like my lot, So silent constantly-- I've liv'd amid the forest gloom Until I almost fear-- When will the thrilling voices come My spirit thirsts to hear?
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Temptation hath a music for all ears.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
It is godlike to unloose the spirit, and forget yourself in thought.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The taste forever refines in the study of women.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, sitting amid their ruins
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The dust is old upon my sandal-shoon, And still I am a pilgrim I have roved From wild America to Bosphor's waters, And worshipp'd at innumerable shrines Of beauty and the painter's art, to me, And sculpture, speak as with a living tongue, And of dead kingdoms, I recall the soul, Sitting amid their ruins.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The children of the poor are so apt to look as if the rich would have been over-blest with such! Alas for the angel capabilities, interrupted so soon with care, and with after life so sadly unfulfilled.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Blessed are the joymakers.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Vulgarity is more obvious in satin than in homespun.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
There is to me a daintiness about early flowers that touches me like poetry. They blow out with such a simple loveliness among the common herbs of pastures, and breathe their lives so unobtrusively, like hearts whose beatings are too gentle for the world.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
It is the month of June, The month of leaves and roses, When pleasant sights salute the eyes, And pleasant scents the noses.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The rain is playing its soft pleasant tune fitfully on the skylight, and the shade of the fast-flying clouds across my book passed with delicate change.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
How beautiful it is for a man to die Upon the walls of Zion! to be called Like a watch-worn and weary sentinel, To put his armour off, and rest in heaven!
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
