Richard Hovey Quotes

For it's always fair weather - When good fellows get together- With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.

Fair weather weddings make fair weather lives.

For 't is always fair weather When good fellows get together With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.

Who would not rather flounder in the fight than not have known the glory of the fray?

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.

The dawn is lonely for the sun, And chill and drear; The one lone star is pale and wan, As one in fear.

For surely in the blind deep-buried roots Of all men's souls to-day A secret quiver shoots.

For 't is always fair weather When good fellows get together With a stein on the table and a good song ringing clear.

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.

East, to the dawn, or west or south or north! Loose rein upon the neck of--and forth!

Make me over, Mother April, When the sap begins to stir! When thy flowery hand delivers All the mountain-prisoned rivers, And thy great heart beats and quivers, To revive the days that were.

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.

Ye who made war that your ships Should lay to at the beck of no nation, Make war now on Murder, that slips The leash of her hounds of damnation; Ye who remembered the Alamo, Remember the Maine!

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.

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.

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.

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.

Of all our good, of all our bad, This one thing only is of worth, We held the league of heart to heart The only purpose of the earth.

Our cheer goes back to them, the valiant dead! Laurels and roses on their graves to-day, Lilies and laurels over them we lay, And violets o''er each unforgotten head.