A noble type of good. Heroic womanhood.
My soul is full of longing for the secret of the sea
The soul never grows old.
The strength of criticism lies in the weakness of the thing criticized.
Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands; The smith, a mighty man is he, With large and sinewy hands; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands.
The course of my long life hath reached at last in fragile bark over a tempestuous sea the common harbor, where must rendered be account for all the actions of the past.