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The taste forever refines in the study of women.

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
Refines
Taste
Study
Forever
Women

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A lamp is lit in woman's eye that souls, else lost on earth, remember angels by.
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The Spring is here--the delicate footed May, With its slight fingers full of leaves and flowers, And with it comes a thirst to be away. In lovelier scenes to pass these sweeter hours.
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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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Of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, sitting amid their ruins
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The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
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The smallest pebble in the well of truth has its peculiar meaning, and will stand when man's best monuments have passed away.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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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
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Gratitude is not only the memory but the homage of the heart- rendered to God for his goodness.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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Nature's noblemen are everywhere,--in town and out of town, gloved and rough-handed, rich and poor. Prejudice against a lord, because he is a lord, is losing the chance of finding a good fellow, as much as prejudice against a ploughman because he is a ploughman.
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Nature has thrown a veil of modest beauty over maidenhood and moss-roses.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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The expressive word quiet defines the dress, manners, bow, and even physiognomy of every true denizen of St. James and Bond street.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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The perfect world, by Adam trod, Was the first temple--built by God-- His fiat laid the corner stone, And heaved its pillars, one by one.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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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
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If e'er I win a parting token, 'Tis something that has lost its power-- A chain that has been used and broken, A ruin'd glove, a faded flower Something that makes my pleasure less, Something that means--forgetfulness.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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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!
Nathaniel Parker Willis
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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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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
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Maturity is most rapid in the low latitudes, where pineapples and women most do thrive.
Nathaniel Parker Willis