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I knelt, and with the fervor of a lip unused to the cool breath of reason, told my love.
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
Breaths
Lips
Cool
Told
Knelt
Reason
Unused
Love
Fervor
Courtship
Breath
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Vulgarity is more obvious in satin than in homespun.
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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.
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Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
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Blessed are the joymakers.
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The night is made for tenderness,--so still that the low whisper, scarcely audible, is heard like music,--and so deeply pure that the fond thought is chastened as it springs and on the lip made holy.
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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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O, when the heart is, full, when bitter thoughts come crowding thickly up for utterance, and the poor common words of courtesy are such a very mockery, how much the bursting heart may pour itself in prayer!
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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.
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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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The taste forever refines in the study of women.
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Some noble spirits mistake despair for content.
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The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
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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.
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I love to go and mingle with the young In the gay festal room--when every heart Is beating faster than the merry tune, And their blue eyes are restless, and their lips Parted with eager joy, and their round cheeks Flush'd with the beautiful motion of the dance.
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A lamp is lit in woman's eye that souls, else lost on earth, remember angels by.
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
Temptation hath a music for all ears.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Ah me! the world is full of meetings such as this,--a thrill, a voiceless challenge and reply, and sudden partings after!
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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
