Joel Benton Quotes

As we hold in derision now the discovery of the philosopher's stone and perpetual motion, so future generations will look upon this fetich of our time, and not without unspeakable amazement.

His cherished woods are mute. The stream glides down </br> The hill as when I knew it years ago; </br> The dark, pine arbor with its priestly gown </br> Stands hushed, as if our grief it still would show.

Nothing was ever truer...than the statement, "The poor you have always with you."

Pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite </br> All are on their rounds to-night,— </br> In the wan moon's silver ray </br> Thrives their helter-skelter play.

Agriculture and commerce, as they once were, are things of the past. The one has been made unprofitable beyond description; the other is now impossible, except in a reduced way, under an alien flag.

Sea-like in billowy distance, far away </br> The half-broke prairies stretch on every hand; </br> How wide the circuit of their summer day— </br> What measureless acres of primeval land, </br> Treeless and birdless, by no eyesight spanned!

Bring cypress, rosemary and rue </br> For him who kept his rudder true; </br> Who went at dawn to that high star </br> Where Washington and Lincoln are!

A ball of fire shoots through the tamarack </br> In scarlet splendor, on voluptuous wings; </br> Delirious joy the pyrotechnist brings, </br> Who marks for us high summer's almanac. </br> How instantly the red-coat hurtles back!

The man who burned up his barn filled with grain to destroy a hornets' nest is not alone in the world. He now has a cult and a body of disciples.

Winged soul of beauty, tropic in desire, </br> Thy love seems alien in our northern zone; </br> Thou giv'st to our green lands a burst of fire </br> And callest back the fables we disown. </br> The hot equator thou mightst well inspire, </br> Or stand above some Eastern monarch’s throne.

If it is to have the fat meat in its pudding, on what principle can it free itself from responsibility for the lean?

Don't we all, of long ago, </br> By the ruddy fireplace glow, </br> In the kitchen and the hall, </br> Those queer, cooflike pranks recall? Eery shadows were they then— </br> But to-night they come again; </br> Were we once more but sixteen, </br> Precious would be Halloween.

Farms are a constant quantity and do not increase. It is only the wave of debt that increases over them.

They will see a generation here and now that is trying to lift itself over the fence by standing in a corn-basket and pulling upward on the handles.

The only "protection" they ever were in need of is protection from dogs and tariff-mongers.