Great Throughts Treasury

"Within yourself deliverance must be searched for, because each man makes his own prison."

"There is no caste in blood. "

"One can be a soldier without dying, and a lover without sighing."

"Pity makes the world soft to the weak and noble to the strong."

"Then, O King! the God, so saying, Stood, to Pritha's Son displaying All the splendour, wonder, dread Of His vast Almighty-head. Out of countless eyes beholding, Out of countless mouths commanding, Countless mystic forms enfolding In one Form: supremely standing Countless radiant glories wearing, Countless heavenly weapons bearing, Crowned with garlands of star-clusters, Robed in garb of woven lustres, Breathing from His perfect Presence Breaths of every subtle essence Of all heavenly odours; shedding Blinding brilliance; overspreading- Boundless, beautiful- all spaces With His all-regarding faces; So He showed! If there should rise Suddenly within the skies Sunburst of a thousand suns Flooding earth with beams undeemed-of, Then might be that Holy One's Majesty and radiance dreamed of!"

"Shall any gazer see with mortal eyes, Or any searcher know by mortal mind, Veil after veil will lift--but there must be Veil upon veil behind."

"Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us. Blossom of the almond trees, April’s gift to April’s bees. Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light. He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all his friends: Faithful friends! It lies I know Pale and white and cold as snow; And ye say, “Abdallah’s dead”! Weeping at the feet and head, I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers; Yet I smile and whisper this: I am not the thing you kiss. Cease your tears and let it lie; It was mine—it is not I. The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve. Pity and need Make all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood. Who doth right deeds Is twice born, and who doeth ill deeds vile. With a bee in every bell, Almond bloom, we greet thee well. A little rain will fill the lily’s cup, which hardly moists the field. It makes sweet human music,—oh! the spells that haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed maiden tells! Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep,—wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each, even to the meanest,—yea, a boon to all where pity is; for pity makes the world soft to the weak and noble for the strong. Making all futures fruits of all the past. Oh, the spells that haunt the trembling tale a bright-eyed maiden tells! Pity makes the world soft to the weak, and noble for the strong. The ordered music of the marching orbs. There is no caste in blood. Yet who shall shut out fate?"

"A little rain will fill The lily's cup which hardly moists the field."

"Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light."

"Life, which all creatures love and strive to keep Wonderful, dear and pleasant unto each, Even to the meanest; yea, a boon to all Where pity is, for pity makes the world Soft to the weak and noble for the strong."

"He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all this friends: Faithful friends! It lies I know Pale and white and cold as snow; And ye say, Abdallah's dead! Weeping at the feet and head. I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers; Yet I smile and whisper this: I am not the thing you kiss. Cease your tears and let it lie; It was mine--it is not I."

"Sleep - death without dying - living, but not life."

"Like a plank of driftwood Tossed on the watery main, Another plank encountered, Meets, touches, parts again; So tossed, and drifting ever, On life's unresting sea, Men meet, and greet, and sever, Parting eternally."

"That rich celestial music thrilled the air from hosts on hosts shining ones, who thronged Eastward and westward, making bright the night."

"Sweetest smile is made saddest tear-drop!"

"Making all future fruits of all the pasts."

"Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours For one lone soul another lonely soul, Each choosing each through all the weary hours, And meeting strangely at one sudden goal, Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers, Into one beautiful and perfect whole; And life's long night is ended, and the way Lies open onward to eternal day."

"That what will come, and must come, shall come well."

"Pity and need Make all flesh kin. There in no caste in blood."

"The Dewdrop slips into the shining sea!"

"The foolish ofttimes teach the wise: I strain too much this string of life, belike, Meaning to make such music as shall save. Mine eyes are dim now that they see the truth, My strength is waned now that my need is most; Would that I had such help as man must have, For I shall die, whose life was all men's hope."

"The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, as if the very Day paused and grew Eve."

"The royal kingcup bold Dares not don his coat of gold."

"What good I see humbly I seek to do, and live obedient to the law, in trust that what will come, and must come, shall come well."

"We are the voices of the wandering wind, Which moan for rest and rest can never find; Lo! as the wind is so is mortal life, A moan, a sigh, a sob, a storm, a strife."

"Who doth right deeds Is twice born, and who doeth ill deeds vile."

"Yet who shall shut out Fate?"

"Shall any gazer see with mortal eyes, or any searcher know by mortal mind, veil after veil will lift--but there must be veil upon veil behind."

"Pity makes the world soft to the weak, and noble for the strong."

"Almond blossom, sent to teach us That the spring days soon will reach us. Blossom of the almond trees, April’s gift to April’s bees. Early violets blue and white Dying for their love of light. He who died at Azan sends This to comfort all his friends: Faithful friends! It lies I know Pale and white and cold as snow; And ye say, “Abdallah’s dead”! Weeping at the feet and head, I can see your falling tears, I can hear your sighs and prayers; Yet I smile and whisper this: I am not the thing you kiss. Cease your tears and let it lie; It was mine—it is not I. The sunbeams dropped Their gold, and, passing in porch and niche, Softened to shadows, silvery, pale, and dim, As if the very Day paused and grew Eve. Pity and need Make all flesh kin. There is no caste in blood. Who doth right deeds Is twice born, and who doeth ill deeds vile. With a bee in every bell, Almond bloom, we greet thee well. "