One writes, that “Other friends remain,”
That “Loss is common to the race” —
And common is the commonplace,
And vacant chaff well meant for grain.
That loss is common would not make
My own less bitter, rather more:
Too common! Never morning wore
To evening, but some heart did break.
— from ‘Alfred Lord Tennyson’s “In Memoriam”.
The original poem is a bit long in its entirety. The last two last lines above comprise the title of Walter Langley’s eponymous 1894 painting.
From “The Fruit Grower’s Guide.
“Thus fortified I might take my rest in peace. But dreams come through stone walls, light up dark rooms, or darken light ones, and their persons make their exits and their entrances as they please, and laugh at locksmiths.”
― Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, “Carmilla,” 1872
“The Evil Mothers,” by Giovanni Segantini, 1894
Oil on canvas. Its alternate title is “Hylas with a Nymph.”
‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet.
— Juliet, in William Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet”
Photo: Ignacio P. Camarlench: “Una Rosa,” 1894
“Mother’s Love” (author unknown)
Her love is like
an island in life’s ocean,
vast and wide.
A peaceful, quiet shelter
From the wind, the rain, the tide.
‘Tis bound on the north by Hope,
By Patience on the West,
By tender Counsel on the South
And on the East by Rest.
Above it like a beacon light
Shine Faith, and Truth, and Prayer;
And thro’ the changing scenes of life
I find a haven there.
Photo credit: “Peasant Mother,” 1894″ by Fritz von Uhde