Arthur Hugh Clough Quotes
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’Tis possible, young sir, that some excessMars youthful judgment and old men’s no less;Yet we must take our counsel as we mayFor (flying years this lesson still convey),’Tis worst unwisdom to be overwise,And not to use, but still correct one’s eyes.
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Thought may well be ever ranging,And opinion ever changing,Task-work be, though ill begun,Dealt with by experience better;By the law and by the letterDuty done is duty doneDo it, Time is on the wing!
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No graven images may beWorshipped, except the currency.
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My wind is turned to bitter north,That was so soft a south before;My sky, that shone so sunny bright,With foggy gloom is clouded o’erMy gay green leaves are yellow-black,Upon the dank autumnal floor;For love, departed once, comes backNo more again, no more.
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Loving-if the answering breastSeem not to be thus possessed,Still in hoping have a care;If it do, beware, beware!But if in yourself you find it,Above all things-mind it, mind it!
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And almost every one when age,Disease, or sorrows strike him,Inclines to think there is a God,Or something very like Him.
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Honour thy parents; that is, allFrom whom advancement may befall:Thou shalt not kill; but need’st not striveOfficiously to keep alive.
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When panting sighs the bosom fill,And hands by chance united thrillAt once with one delicious painThe pulses and the nerves of twain;When eyes that erst could meet with ease,Do seek, yet, seeking, shyly shunEcstatic conscious unison,-The sure beginnings, say, be thesePrelusive to the strain of loveWhich angels sing in heaven above?