(Volume VI)
To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods. —Page 8.
When by my bed I saw my mother kneel,
And with her blessing took her nightly kiss;
Whatever Time destroys, he cannot this;—
E’en now that nameless kiss I feel. —Page 122.
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea;
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. —Page 122.
Sublime words make not a man holy and righteous, but it is a virtuous life that maketh him dear to God. —Page 134.
Who hath a stronger battle than he that useth force to overcome himself? This should be our occupation, to overcome ourselves and every day to be stronger and somewhat holier. —Page 136.
And the sheen on their spears was like stars on the sea,
Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. —Page 142.
Whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge; thy people shall be my people and thy God my God. —Page 144.
For we are all, like swimmers in the sea,
Poised on the top of a huge wave of fate,
Which hangs uncertain to which side to fall. —Page 186.