429 quotes
All are architects of Fate,
Working in these walls of Time;
Some with massive deeds and great,
Some with ornaments of rhyme.
Day, like a weary pilgrim, had reached the western gate of heaven, and Evening stooped down to unloose the latchets of his sandal shoon.
Hyperion (1839)
The counterfeit and counterpart
Of Nature reproduced in art.
Kéramos (1878)
They who live in history only seemed to walk the earth again.
Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.
Voices of the Night (1839)
History casts its shadow far into the land of song.
God sent his Singers upon earth
With songs of sadness and of mirth,
That they might touch the hearts of men,
And bring them back to heaven again.
The Seaside and the Fireside (1850)
Something the heart must have to cherish,
Must love and joy and sorrow learn;
Something with passion clasp, or perish
And in itself to ashes burn.
Hyperion (1839)
None but yourself who are your greatest foe.
A thought often makes us hotter than a fire.
The joy of meeting not unmixed with pain.
For age is opportunity no less
Than youth itself, though in another dress,
And as the evening twilight fades away
The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day.
Morituri Salutamus (1875)
Books are sepulchres of thought.
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden,
One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine,
When he called the flowers, so blue and golden,
Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
Voices of the Night (1839)
Touch the goblet no more!
It will make thy heart sore
To its very core!
Alas! to-day I would give everything
To see a friend's face, or hear a voice
That had the slightest tone of comfort in it.
Round about what is, lies a whole mysterious world of might be, — a psychological romance of possibilities and things that do not happen.
Table-Talk (1857)
There is no flock, however watched and tended,
But one dead lamb is there!
There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended,
But has one vacant chair!
The Seaside and the Fireside (1850)
Ah, how good it feels!
The hand of an old friend.
Love contending with friendship, and self with each generous impulse.
To and fro in his breast his thoughts were heaving and dashing,
As in a foundering ship.
The Courtship of Miles Standish (1858)