Author: Henry David Thoreau (---.spacegate.com.ua)
Date: 01-12-06 16:59
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Beauty is truth, truth is beauty, -that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn, 1819
Double, no triple, our troubles and we'd still be better off than any
other people on earth. It is time that we recognized that ours was, in
truth, a noble cause.
The ultimate determinant in the struggle now going on for the world will
not be bombs and rockets but a test of wills and ideas - a trial of
spiritual resolve: the values we hold, the beliefs we cherish and the
ideals to which we are dedicated.
If thou survive my well-contented day,
When that churl Death my bones with dust shall cover
And shalt by fortune once more re-survey
These poor rude lines of thy deceased lover,
Compare them with the bett'ring of the time,
And though they be outstripp'd by every pen,
Reserve them for my love, not for their rhyme,
Exceeded by the height of happier men.
O! then vouchsafe me but this loving thought:
'Had my friend's Muse grown with this growing age,
A dearer birth than this his love had brought,
To march in ranks of better equipage:
But since he died and poets better prove,
Theirs for their style I'll read, his for his love'.