(14th May 1825) Song
The London Literary Gazette, 1825
On the death of her child (1852), reported in The Life and Letters of Elizabeth Prentiss (1882), p. 138.
A Hereditary Book on the Art of War (1632)
Mais elle était du monde, où les plus belles choses
Ont le pire destin;
Et Rose, elle a vécu ce que vivent les roses,
L'espace d'un matin.
Letter of condolence to M. Du Perrier on the loss of his daughter, as quoted in Hoyt's New Cyclopedia Of Practical Quotations (1922), p. 680
“Tis the last rose of Summer,
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone.”
The Last Rose of Summer, st. 1.
Irish Melodies http://www.musicanet.org/robokopp/moore.html (1807–1834)
So, the flowers of your field, in so far as I am gardener, shall come from my heart where they reside in much good will; and my eye and hand shall attend merely to the cultivating, the weeding, the fungous blight, the noxious insect of the air, and the harmful worm below.
And so shall your garden grow; from the rich soil of the humanities it will rise up and unfold in beauty in the pure air of the spirit.
So shall your thoughts take up the sap of strong and generous impulse, and grow and branch, and run and climb and spread, blooming and fruiting, each after its kind, each flowing toward the fulfillment of its normal and complete desire. Some will so grow as to hug the earth in modest beauty; others will rise, through sunshine and storm, through drought and winter's snows year after year, to tower in the sky; and the birds of the air will nest therein and bring forth their young.
Such is the garden of the heart: so oft neglected and despised when fallow.
Verily, there needs a gardener, and many gardens.
Source: Kindergarten Chats (1918), Ch. 4 : The Garden
Light (1919), Ch. XXII - Light
Context: It is not enough to speak; you must know words. When you have said, "I am in pain," or when you have said, "I am right," you have said nothing in reality, you have only spoken to yourself. The real presence of truth is not in every word of truth, because of the wear and tear of words, and the fleeting multiplicity of arguments. One must have the gift of persuasion, of leaving to truth its speaking simplicity, its solemn unfoldings. It is not I who will be able to speak from the depths of myself. The attention of men dazzles me when it rises before me. The very nakedness of paper frightens me and drowns my looks. Not I shall embellish that whiteness with writing like light. I understand of what a great tribune's sorrow is made; and I can only dream of him who, visibly summarizing the immense crisis of human necessity in a work which forgets nothing, which seems to forget nothing, without the blot even of a misplaced comma, will proclaim our Charter to the epochs of the times in which we are, and will let us see it. Blessed be that simplifier, from whatever country he may come, — but all the same, I should prefer him, at the bottom of my heart, to speak French.
