O star on the breast of the river!
O marvel of bloom and grace!
Did you fall right down from heaven,
Out of the sweetest place?
You are white as the thoughts of an angel,
Your heart is steeped in the sun;
Did you grow in the Golden City,
My pure and radiant one?"
"Nay, nay, I fell not out of heaven;
None gave me my saintly white;
It slowly grew from the darkness,
Down in the dreary night.
From the ooze of the silent river,
I win my glory and grace,
White souls fall not, O my poet,
They rise to the sweetest place."
A charge to keep I have,
A God to glorify;
A never dying soul to save,
And fit it for the sky.
Note 11.It is said that in the earliest edition of the New England Primer this prayer is given as above, which is copied from the reprint of 1777. In the edition of 1784 it is altered to "Now I lay me down to sleep." In the edition of 1814 the second line of the prayer reads, "I pray thee, Lord, my soul to keep."
It is the mind that makes the man, and our vigour is in our immortal soul.
Speech is a mirror of the soul: as a man speaks, so is he.
The most perfect soul, says Heraclitus, is a dry light, which flies out of the body as lightning breaks from a cloud.
Eat not thy heart; which forbids to afflict our souls, and waste them with vexatious cares.
Pythagoras, when he was asked what time was, answered that it was the soul of this world.
Plato affirmed that the soul was immortal and clothed in many bodies successively.
He was once asked what a friend is, and his answer was, "One soul abiding in two bodies."
He used to define justice as "a virtue of the soul distributing that which each person deserved."
Pythagoras used to say that he had received as a gift from Mercury the perpetual transmigration of his soul, so that it was constantly transmigrating and passing into all sorts of plants or animals.
Xenophanes was the first person who asserted... that the soul is a spirit.
Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,
And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire.
The wretched souls of those who lived
Without or praise or blame.
Would you damn your precious soul?
Plato says, "'T is to no purpose for a sober man to knock at the door of the Muses;" and Aristotle says "that no excellent soul is exempt from a mixture of folly."
The souls of emperors and cobblers are cast in the same mould.... The same reason that makes us wrangle with a neighbour causes a war betwixt princes.
These lovely lamps, these windows of the soul.
Two souls in one, two hearts into one heart.
Two souls with but a single thought,
Two hearts that beat as one.
As all the perfumes of the vanished day
Rise from the earth still moistened with the dew
So from my chastened soul beneath thy ray
Old love is born anew.
There is no repose for the mind except in the absolute; for feeling, except in the infinite; for the soul, except in the divine.
Only one thing is necessary: to possess God--All the senses, all the forces of the soul and of the spirit, all the exterior resources are so many open outlets to the Divinity; so many ways of tasting and of adoring God. We should be able to detach ourselves from all that is perishable and cling absolutely to the eternal and the absolute and enjoy the all else as a loan, as a usufruct.... To worship, to comprehend, to receive, to feel, to give, to act: this our law, our duty, our happiness, our heaven.
Heroism is the brilliant triumph of the soul over the flesh, that is to say over fear: fear of poverty, of suffering, of calumny, of illness, of loneliness and of death. There is no real piety without heroism. Heroism is the dazzling and glorious concentration of courage.