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Quotes by Alexander Smith
Some books are drenched sands, On which a great soul's wealth lies all in heaps, Like a wrecked argosy.— filed under Books
The pale child, Eve, leading her mother, Night.— filed under Evening
The saddest thing that can befall a soul Is when it loses faith in God and woman.— filed under Faith
Papers. Second Series. Columbia's Agony. St. 9. We bury love, Forgetfulness grows over it like grass; That is a thing to weep for, not the dead.— filed under Forgetfulness
We twain have met like the ships upon the sea, Who hold an hour's converse, so short, so sweet; One little hour! and then, away they speed On lonely paths, through mist, and cloud, and foam, To meet no more.— filed under Friends
In winter, when the dismal rain Came down in slanting lines, And Wind, that grand old harper, smote His thunder-harp of pines.— filed under Sows
Each time we love, We turn a nearer and a broader mark To that keen archer, Sorrow, and he strikes.— filed under Sorrow
The sun was down, And all the west was paved with sullen fire. I cried, "Behold! the barren beach of hell At ebb of tide."— filed under Sunset
A brave soul is a thing which all things serve.— filed under Bravery
To our graves we walk In the thick footprints of departed men.— filed under Death
We have two lives; The soul of man is like the rolling world, One half in day, the other dipt in night; The one has music and the flying cloud, The other, silence and the wakeful stars.— filed under Life
Sainted? It is the cause, and not the death, that makes the martyr. b. NAPOLEON I. His wife and children, being eleven in number, ten able to walk, and one sucking on her breast, met him by the way as he went towards Smithfield: this sorrowful sight of his own flesh and blood, dear as they were to him, could yet nothing move him, but that he constantly and cheerfully took his death with wonderful patience, in the defence and support of Christ's Gospel. C. Martyrdom of JOHN ROGERS. See Richmond's Selection from the Writings of the Reformers and Early Protestant Divines of the Church of England. Like a pale martyr in his shirt of fire.— filed under Martyrdom
Sweet April's tears, Dead on the hem of May.— filed under Months-May
Naples. Jan. 26, 1819. A poem round and perfect as a star.— filed under Poetry
The trees were gazing up into the sky, Their bare arms stretched in prayer for the snows.— filed under Treason