Talks to Young People on Ethics

Front Cover
C. Scribner's sons, 1917 - Ethics - 167 pages

From inside the book

Other editions - View all

Common terms and phrases

Popular passages

Page 97 - I went by the field of the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of understanding ; and, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall thereof was broken down.
Page 124 - Play up! play up! and play the game! " This is the word that year by year, While in her place the School is set, Every one of her sons must hear, And none that hears it dare forget. This they all with a joyful mind Bear through life like a torch in flame, And falling fling to the host behind — " Play up! play up! and play the game!
Page 55 - Nay, but she airn'd not at glory, no lover of glory she : Give her the glory of going on, and still to be. The wages of sin is death : if the wages of Virtue be dust, Would she have heart to endure for the life of the worm and the fly?
Page 153 - Out of the night that covers me, Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds and shall find me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate...
Page 77 - And drunk delight of battle with my peers, Far on the ringing plains of windy Troy. I am a part of all that I have met; Yet all experience is an arch wherethro' Gleams that untravell'd world, whose margin fades For ever and for ever when I move.
Page 124 - There's a breathless hush in the Close to-night — Ten to make and the match to win — A bumping pitch and a blinding light, An hour to play and the last man in. And it's not for the sake of a ribboned coat, Or the selfish hope of a season's fame, But his Captain's hand on his shoulder smote — " Play up! play up! and play the game!
Page 47 - And so I live, you see, Go through the world, try, prove, reject, Prefer, still struggling to effect My warfare ; happy that I can Be crossed and thwarted as a man, Not left in God's contempt apart, With ghastly smooth life, dead at heart, fame in earth's paddock as her prize.
Page 16 - said the good wife ; ' So are we all : but do not call him, love, Before you prove him, rogue, and proved, forgive. His gain is loss; for he that wrongs his friend Wrongs himself more, and ever bears about A silent court of justice in his breast, Himself the judge and jury, and himself The prisoner at the bar, ever condemn'd: And that drags down his life : then comes what comes Hereafter: and he meant, he said he meant, Perhaps he meant, or partly meant, you well.
Page 124 - Play up! Play up! and play the game!" The sand of the desert is sodden red, — Red with the wreck of a square that broke; — The Gatling's jammed and the Colonel dead, And the regiment blind with dust and smoke. The river of death has brimmed his banks, And England's far, and Honour a name, But the voice of a schoolboy rallies the ranks, "Play up! Play up! and play the game!
Page 57 - Death closes all: but something ere the end, Some work of noble note, may yet be done, Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods. The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the...

Bibliographic information