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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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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
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Ruin
Glove
Lost
Ruins
Token
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Chains
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Used
Broken
Forgetfulness
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Gloves
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Pleasure
Faded
Less
Chain
More quotes by Nathaniel Parker Willis
The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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Blessed are the joymakers.
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Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.
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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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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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Some noble spirits mistake despair for content.
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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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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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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.
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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.
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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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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.
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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.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
One gets, sensitive about losing mornings after getting a little used to them with living in a country. Each one of these endlessly varied daybreaks is an opera but once performed.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Maturity is most rapid in the low latitudes, where pineapples and women most do thrive.
Nathaniel Parker Willis
Gentleness is the great point to be obtained in the study of manners.
Nathaniel Parker Willis