A Book of German Lyrics

Nonfiction, Religion & Spirituality, New Age, History, Fiction & Literature
Cover of the book A Book of German Lyrics by Anonymous, Library of Alexandria
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
Author: Anonymous ISBN: 9781465513878
Publisher: Library of Alexandria Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint: Language: German
Author: Anonymous
ISBN: 9781465513878
Publisher: Library of Alexandria
Publication: March 8, 2015
Imprint:
Language: German
An unconscionable time a-dying—there is the picture ("I am afraid, gentlemen,") of your life and of mine. The sands run out, and the hours are "numbered and imputed," and the days go by; and when the last of these finds us, we have been a long time dying, and what else? The very length is something, if we reach that hour of separation undishonoured; and to have lived at all is doubtless (in the soldierly expression) to have served. There is a tale in Tacitus of how the veterans mutinied in the German wilderness; of how they mobbed Germanicus, clamouring to go home; and of how, seizing their general's hand, these old, war-worn exiles passed his finger along their toothless gums. Sunt lacrymæ rerum: this was the most eloquent of the songs of Simeon. And when a man has lived to a fair age, he bears his marks of service. He may have never been remarked upon the breach at the head of the army; at least he shall have lost his teeth on the camp bread. The idealism of serious people in this age of ours is of a noble character. It never seems to them that they have served enough; they have a fine impatience of their virtues. It were perhaps more modest to be singly thankful that we are no worse. It is not only our enemies, those desperate characters—it is we ourselves who know not what we do;—thence springs the glimmering hope that perhaps we do better than we think: that to scramble through this random business with hands reasonably clean, to have played the part of a man or woman with some reasonable fulness, to have often resisted the diabolic, and at the end to be still resisting it, is for the poor human soldier to have done right well. To ask to see some fruit of our endeavour is but a transcendental way of serving for reward; and what we take to be contempt of self is only greed of hire.
View on Amazon View on AbeBooks View on Kobo View on B.Depository View on eBay View on Walmart
An unconscionable time a-dying—there is the picture ("I am afraid, gentlemen,") of your life and of mine. The sands run out, and the hours are "numbered and imputed," and the days go by; and when the last of these finds us, we have been a long time dying, and what else? The very length is something, if we reach that hour of separation undishonoured; and to have lived at all is doubtless (in the soldierly expression) to have served. There is a tale in Tacitus of how the veterans mutinied in the German wilderness; of how they mobbed Germanicus, clamouring to go home; and of how, seizing their general's hand, these old, war-worn exiles passed his finger along their toothless gums. Sunt lacrymæ rerum: this was the most eloquent of the songs of Simeon. And when a man has lived to a fair age, he bears his marks of service. He may have never been remarked upon the breach at the head of the army; at least he shall have lost his teeth on the camp bread. The idealism of serious people in this age of ours is of a noble character. It never seems to them that they have served enough; they have a fine impatience of their virtues. It were perhaps more modest to be singly thankful that we are no worse. It is not only our enemies, those desperate characters—it is we ourselves who know not what we do;—thence springs the glimmering hope that perhaps we do better than we think: that to scramble through this random business with hands reasonably clean, to have played the part of a man or woman with some reasonable fulness, to have often resisted the diabolic, and at the end to be still resisting it, is for the poor human soldier to have done right well. To ask to see some fruit of our endeavour is but a transcendental way of serving for reward; and what we take to be contempt of self is only greed of hire.

More books from Library of Alexandria

Cover of the book Italian Backgrounds by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Cloud Upon the Sanctuary by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Rendezvous, 1907 by Anonymous
Cover of the book A Popular History of Astronomy During the Nineteenth Century by Anonymous
Cover of the book Yussuf the Guide: The Mountain Bandits; Strange Adventure in Asia Minor by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Ceramic Art: A Compendium of The History and Manufacture of Pottery and Porcelain by Anonymous
Cover of the book Religion and Myth: The Comparative Study of African Spirituality by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Vicar of Tours by Anonymous
Cover of the book Manual of Oriental Antiquities by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Earth's Beginning by Anonymous
Cover of the book An Outline of the History of Christian Thought Since Kant by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Viper of Milan: A Romance of Lombardy by Anonymous
Cover of the book Bygones Worth Remembering (Complete) by Anonymous
Cover of the book Os netos de Camillo by Anonymous
Cover of the book The Lawyers: A Drama in Five Acts by Anonymous
We use our own "cookies" and third party cookies to improve services and to see statistical information. By using this website, you agree to our Privacy Policy