The biggest dog has been a pup
O woman, born first to believe us; Yea, also born first to forget; Born first to betray and deceive us, Yet first to repent and regret
All honor to him who shall win the prize,'The world has cried for a thousand years;But to him who tries and fails and dies,I give great honor and glory and tears.
'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon, batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven.
Is it worthwhile that we jostle a brother, Bearing his load on the rough road of life? Is it worthwhile that we jeer at each other, In blackness of heart - that we war to the knife? God pity us all in our pitiful strife
Let us go and talk with the poets. (on arriving in San Francisco)
That man who lives for self alone - lives for the meanest mortal known
The soul that feeds on books alone --/ I count that soul exceeding small / That lives alone by book and creed, --/ A soul that has not learned to read.
I count the columned waves at war With Titan elements; and they, In martial splendor, storm the bar And shake the world, these bits of spray.
This creature comes from out the dim Far centuries, beyond the rim Of time's remotest reach or stir.
We plant this stone as some small seed Is sown at springtime, warm with earth; We sow this seed as some good deed Is sown, to grow until its worth Shall grow, through rugged steeps of time, To touch the God-built stars sublime.
The mountains from that fearful first Named day were God's own house. Behold, 'Twas here dread Sinai's thunders burst And showed His face. 'Twas here of old His prophets dwelt. Lo, it was here The Christ did come when death drew near.
Who now shall accuse and arraign us? What man shall condemn and disown? Since Christ has said only the stainless Shall cast at his fellows a stone.
Each gives to each, and like the star Gets back its gift in tenfold pay. To get and give and give amain The rivers run and oceans roll. O generous and high-born rain When reigning as a splendid whole! That man who lives for self alone Lives for the meanest mortal known.
O you had loved her sitting there, Half hidden in her loosen'd hair: Why, you had loved her for her eyes, Their large and melancholy look Of tenderness, and well mistook Their love for light of Paradise.
In men whom men condemn as ill I find so much of goodness still. In men whom men pronounce divine I find so much of sin and blot I do not dare to draw a line Between the two, where God has not.
A thousand miles of mighty wood Where thunder-storms stride fire-shod; A thousand flowers every rod, A stately tree on every rood; Ten thousand leaves on every tree, And each a miracle to me; And yet there be men who question God!
These stony altars they have hurled Oppression back, have kept the boon Of liberty. Behold, how free The mountains stand, and eternally.
Her mouth Was roses gather'd from the south, The warm south side of Paradise, And breathed upon and handed down, By angels on a stair of stars.