Edmund Clarence Stedman quotes

Yes, there's a luck in most things; and in none more than being born at the right time. (Edmund Clarence Stedman)
Let the winds blow! a fiercer gale Is wild within me! what may quell That sullen tempest? I must sail Whither, O whither, who can tell!
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Poetry is an art, and chief of the fine art; the easiest to dabble in, the hardest in which to reach true excellence.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Fashion is a potency in art, making it hard to judge between the temporary and the lasting.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
O child! dear child! Above the clouds I lift my wing To hear the bells of Heaven ring; Some of their music, though my flights be wild, To Earth I bring; Then let me soar and sing!
Edmund Clarence Stedman
I loved: and in the morning sky, A magic castle upward grew!
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Hopeless of all he dared to hope so long, The music born within him dies away; Even the song he loved becomes a pain, Full-freighted with a yearning all in vain.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
O, our feeble tests of greatness! Look for one so calm of soul As to take the even chalice of his life and drink the whole. Noble deeds are held in honor, but the wide world sorely needs Hearts of patience to unravel this, - the worth of common deeds.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
In the lap of hoary Europe lie her children ill at rest, Reaching hands of supplication to their brethren of the West; Pale about the lifeless fountain of their ancient freedom, wait Till the angel move its waters and avenge their stricken state. Let me then, a new crusader, to the eastward set my face, Wake the fires of old tradition on each sacred altar-place, Till a trodden people rouse them, with a clamor as divine As the winds of autumn roaring through the clumps of forest-pine. I myself would seize their banner; they should follow where it led, To the triumph of the victors or the pallor of the dead.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
The year of jubilee has come; Gather the gifts of Earth with equal hand; Henceforth ye too may share the birthright soil, The corn, the wine, and all the harvest-home.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
I dare aver He is a brave discoverer Of climes his elders do not know. He has more learning than appears On the scroll of twice three thousand years. (Edmund Clarence Stedman)
At last the god cometh! The air runs over with splendor; The fire leaps high on the altar; Melodious thunders shake the ground. Hark to the Delphic responses! Hark! it is the god!
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Where's he that died o' yesterday? What better chance hath he To clink the can and toss the pot When this night's junkets be? For the lad that died o' yesterday Is just as dead - ho! ho! - As the whoreson knave men laid away A thousand years ago.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Crops failed; wealth took a flight; house, treasure, land, Slipped from my hold-thus plenty comes and goes. One friend I had, but he too loosed his hand (Or was it I?) the year I met with Rose.
Edmund Clarence Stedman
Give me to die unwitting of the day, And stricken in Life's brave heat, with senses clear!
Edmund Clarence Stedman