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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
Eternity
Lamps
Pure
Thrones
Holy
Flame
Changeless
Shall
Lift
Lent
Stars
Burn
Amid
Mother
Flames
Lamp
Love
Lifts
Lit
Thee
Throne
More quotes by Nathaniel Parker Willis
A lamp is lit in woman's eye that souls, else lost on earth, remember angels by.
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The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
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Nature has thrown a veil of modest beauty over maidenhood and moss-roses.
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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!
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Youth is beautiful its friendship is precious the intercourse with it is a purifying release from the worn and stained harness of older life.
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Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.
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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.
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Temptation hath a music for all ears.
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Of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, sitting amid their ruins
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The soul of man createth its own destiny.
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Blessed are the joymakers.
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T is the work of many a dark hour, many a prayer, to bring the heart back from an infant gone.
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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?
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The taste forever refines in the study of women.
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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.
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Maturity is most rapid in the low latitudes, where pineapples and women most do thrive.
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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
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There is a gentle element, and man may breathe it with a calm, unruffled soul, and drink its living waters, till his heart is pure and this is human happiness.
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