Amos Bronson Alcott

“ Dear Heart! if aught to human love I’ve owed For noble furtherance of the good and fair; Climbed I, by bold emprise, the dizzying stair To excellence, and was by thee approved, In memory cherished and the more beloved; If fortune smiled, and late-won liberty,— ’T was thy kind favor all, thy generous legacy. Nor didst thou spare thy large munificence Me here to pleasure amply and maintain, But conjured from suspicion and mischance, Exile, misapprehension, cold disdain, For my loved cloud-rapt dream, supremacy; To bright reality transformed romance, Crowning with smiles the hard-earned victory. ”

“ Most precious leaves the mail delights to bring, All loving parcels, neatly squared and sealed; Her buoyant fancy trims its glossy wing, And flits courageous o’er Love’s flowery field. Sure ’tis a tender and a sparkling flame That letters kindle and do sweetly feed; Wilt fly, schoolmaster, for such noble game? Maiden that doth all other maids exceed! She writes with passion, and a nimble wit, Void of all pedantry and vain pretence, With native genius forcible and fit, A flowing humor and surpassing sense: Who gains her heart will win a precious prize, And fortunate be in every lover’s eyes. ”

“ Every Muse delights in it, as its mythology shows, from the gardens of the Hesperides to the orchard of Plato. A basket of pearmains, golden russets, or any of the choice kinds, standing in sight, shall perfume the scholar's composition as it refreshes his genius. He may snatch wildness from the woods, get shrewdness from cities, learning from libraries and universities, compliments from courts. But for subtlety of thought, for sovereign sense, for color, the graces of diction and behavior, he best betakes himself
"Where on all sides the apples scattered lie, Each under its own tree." ”

“ A certain sentiment of worship insinuates itself into our affections for a near and dear friend; and while endearing us the more, yet holds us at the distance of reverence and of self-respect that belongs to the noblest friendships. 'Tis the poverty of life that renders friendship poor and cold. I am drawn to one who, while I approach yet seems distant still; whose personality has a quality so commanding as to forbid a familiarity not justified by affection and reason alike, and whom I never quite come up to, but yet is akin to me in the attributes that win my regard and insure my affection. ”

“ Virtue sure Were blind as fortune, should she choose the poor Rough cottage man to live in, and despise To dwell in woman's stately edifice; Woman's approved the fairer sex, and we Mean men repent our pedigree. Why choose the father's name, when we may take The mother's a more honor'd blood to make, Woman's of later, though of nobler birth, For she of man was made, man made of earth, The son of dust, and though her sin did breed His fall, again she raised him in her seed; Who had he not her blest creation seen, An Anchorite in Paradise had been. ”

“ Poet and moralist, he has beauty and truth for all men's edification and delight. His works are studies. And any youth of free senses and fresh affections shall be spared years of tedious toil, in which wisdom and fair learning are, for the most part, held at arm's-length, planets' width, from his grasp, by graduating from this college. His books are surcharged with vigorous thoughts, a sprightly wit. They abound in strong sense, happy humor, keen criticisms, subtile insights, noble morals, clothed in a chaste and manly diction, fresh with the breath of health and progress. ”

“ My heart, forthlooking in the purple day, Tell me what sweetest image thou may’st see, Fit to be type of thy dear love and thee? Lo! here where sunshine keeps the wind away, Grow two young violets,—humble lovers they,— With drooping face to face, and breath to breath, They look and kiss and love and laugh at death:— Yon bluebird singing on the scarlet spray [Pg 22] Of the bloomed maple in the blithe spring air, While his mate answers from the wood of pines, And all day long their music ne’er declines; For love their labor is, and love their care. ”

“ Our standards are ideas, those things of the mind and originals of words.
Thought's winged hand, Marshals in trope and tone The ideal band. Genius alone Holds fast in eye The fleeing God— Brings Beauty nigh— Senses descry Footsteps he trod, Figures he drew, Shapes old and new, The fair, the true, In soul and sod.
Nature is thought immersed in matter, and seen differently as viewed from the one or the other. To the laborer it is a thing of mere uses; to the scholar a symbol and a muse. The same landscape is not the same as seen by poet and plowman. ”

“ One day the highest culture of the choicest gifts will be deemed essential to the heads of families, and the arts of nurture and of culture honored as the art of arts.
"Boys are dear to divinity," dear to all mankind. What more charming than to watch the dawning intelligence, clearing itself from the mists which obscure its vision of the world into which it has but lately entered? The more attractive, since a fine sentiment then mingles mythically with the freshness of thought, confuses the sexes, as if the boy were being transformed into the girl, first entering her wider world of affection ”

“ Poet of the Pulpit, whose full-chorded lyre Startles the churches from their slumbers late, Discoursing music, mixed with lofty ire, At wrangling factions in the restless state, Till tingles with thy note each listening ear,— Then household charities by the friendly fire Of home, soothe all to fellowship and good cheer. No sin escapes thy fervent eloquence, Yet, touching with compassion the true word, Thou leavest the trembling culprit’s dark offence To the mediation of his gracious Lord. To noble thought and deep dost thou dispense Due meed of praise, strict in thy just award. ”