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Nature has thrown a veil of modest beauty over maidenhood and moss-roses.
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
Rose
Beauty
Nature
Moss
Veil
Veils
Roses
Modest
Thrown
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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 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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Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
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Gentleness is the great point to be obtained in the study of manners.
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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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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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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.
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Ah me! the world is full of meetings such as this,--a thrill, a voiceless challenge and reply, and sudden partings after!
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Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.
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The taste forever refines in the study of women.
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The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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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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There is no divining-rod whose dip shall tell us at twenty what we shall most relish at thirty.
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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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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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The smallest pebble in the well of truth has its peculiar meaning, and will stand when man's best monuments have passed away.
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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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The soul of man createth its own destiny.
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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
