The secret of long life [by E.J.M. Collins].

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Página 32 - It is not growing like a tree In bulk, doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear. A lily of a day Is fairer far, in May, Although it fall and die that night; It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see; And in short measures life may perfect be.
Página 94 - And lose to-morrow the ground won to-day — Ah ! do not we, wanderer ! await it too ? Yes, we await it! — but it still delays, And then we suffer! and amongst us one, Who most has suffer'd, takes dejectedly His seat upon the intellectual throne; And all his store of sad experience he Lays bare of wretched days...
Página 59 - The time is out of joint : — 0 cursed spite, That ever I was born to set it right!
Página 94 - Tells us his misery's birth and growth and signs, And how the dying spark of hope was fed, And how the breast was soothed, and how the head, And all his hourly varied anodynes.

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