Giving What We Have—See [Talents].
GLITTER VERSUS DEPTH
To have an overwhelming flow of words is one thing; to have a large vocabulary is another; and very often Swinburne’s torrent of speech reminds us not so much of a natural fountain whose springs are deep and abundant, as of an artificial fountain, which is always ready to shoot aloft its glittering spray, and always reabsorbs itself for some further service; so that while the fashion of the jet may differ, the water is pretty much the same.—W. J. Dawson, “The Makers of English Poetry.”
(1226)
Gloom Dispelled—See [Sunshine, Scattering].
GLORY, FADED
When Charlemagne died, he was buried at Aix la Chapelle, “keeping royal state and semblance still.” The purple robe was around him, the crown glittered on his pallid brow. The sword of state lay near him, and the scepter rested in his hand. Seated on a chair of state, with all these insignia of royalty upon him and around him, he was left in the chamber of death. A century afterward, that silent chamber was opened by the barbarian Otho. And now the purple robe was dust and ashes. The crown was a faded spangle, the sword of state corroded metal, and all that remained of Charles the Great, a ghastly skeleton.
(1227)
Glory in Duty—See [Duty More Than Glory].
GLORY IN IDEALS