Quote

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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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
Heaven
Worn
Upon
Walls
Death
Watches
Beautiful
Watch
Sentinel
Men
Wall
Sentinels
Like
Rest
Zion
Called
Armour
Dies
Weary

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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.
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Temptation hath a music for all ears.
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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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Like Melrose Abbey, large cities should especially be viewed by moonlight.
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The taste forever refines in the study of 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 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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It is godlike to unloose the spirit, and forget yourself in thought.
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Of dead kingdoms I recall the soul, sitting amid their ruins
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How like a mounting devil in the heart rules the unreined ambition.
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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 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.
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The lily and the rose in her fair face striving for precedence.
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The soul of man createth its own destiny.
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The sin forgiven by Christ in HeavenBy man is cursed alway.
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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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Flirtation is a circulating library, in which we seldom ask twice for the same volume.
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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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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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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