21 quotes
For ’t is always fair weather
When good fellows get together
With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.
Along the Trail (1898)
Love seeks a guerdon; friendship is as God,
Who gives and asks no payment.
The Marriage of Guenevere (1891)
Fair weather weddings make fair weather lives.
The Marriage of Guenevere (1891)
Praise be to you, O hills, that you can breathe
Into our souls the secret of your power!
Along the Trail (1898)
The people blossoms armies and puts forth
The splendid summer of its noiseless might.
Along the Trail (1898)
Nor love they least
Who strike with right good will
To vanquish ill
And fight God’s battle upward from the beast.
Along the Trail (1898)
There is no sorrow like a love denied
Nor any joy like love that has its will.
The Marriage of Guenevere (1891)
How loving is the Lord God and how strong withal!
Along the Trail (1898)
Who would not rather founder in the fight
Than not have known the glory of the fray?
Along the Trail (1898)
Spring in the world!
And all things are made new!
Along the Trail (1898)
The East and the West in the spring of the world shall blend
As a man and a woman that plight
Their troth in the warm spring night.
Along the Trail (1898)
Shall the iron argue with the smith what it would be?
Or, shall the wrought iron reason with the monger
To whom it would be sold?
Along the Trail (1898)
There are worser ills to face
Than foemen in the fray;
And many a man has fought because—
He feared to run away.
The Marriage of Guenevere (1891)
The dawn is lonely for the sun,
And chill and drear;
The one lone star is pale and wan,
As one in fear.
In all climes we pitch out tents,
Cronies of the elements,
With the secret lords of birth
Intimate and free.
And you prate of the wealth of nations, as if it were bought and sold,
The wealth of nations is men, not silk and cotton and gold.
The great white cold walks abroad!
Along the Trail (1898)
East, to the dawn, or west or south or north!
Loose rein upon the neck of—and forth!
I am fevered with the sunset,
I am fretful with the bay,
For the wander-thirst is on me
And my soul is in Cathay.
I do not know beneath what sky
Nor on what seas shall be thy fate;
I only know it shall be high,
I only know it shall be great.