22 quotes
And looks commercing with the skies,
Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes.
Il Penseroso (1631)
When the gust hath blown his fill,
Ending on the rustling leaves
With minute drops from off the eaves.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Sweet bird, that shunn'st the noise of folly,
Most musical, most melancholy!
Il Penseroso (1631)
Till old experience do attain
To something like prophetic strain.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing
Such notes as, warbled to the string,
Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek.
Il Penseroso (1631)
And add to these retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Oft, on a plat of rising ground,
I hear the far-off curfew sound
Over some wide-watered shore,
Swinging low with sullen roar.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Retired Leisure,
That in trim gardens takes his pleasure.
Il Penseroso (1631)
The gay motes that people the sunbeams.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Where glowing embers through the room
Teach light to counterfeit a gloom,
Far from all resort of mirth,
Save the cricket on the hearth.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Where more is meant than meets the ear.
Il Penseroso (1631)
And join with thee, calm Peace and Quiet,
Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth diet.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Or call up him that left half told
The story of Cambuscan bold.
Il Penseroso (1631)
While rocking winds are piping loud.
Il Penseroso (1631)
While the bee with honied thigh,
That at her flowery work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring
With such a consort as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feather'd sleep.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Hence vain deluding Joys,
The brood of Folly without father bred!
Il Penseroso (1631)
Sometime let gorgeous Tragedy
In sceptred pall come sweeping by,
Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line,
Or the tale of Troy divine.
Il Penseroso (1631)
But let my due feet never fail
To walk the studious cloisters pale,
And love the high embowed roof,
With antique pillars massy proof,
And storied windows richly dight;
Casting a dim religious light.
Il Penseroso (1631)
Hide me from day's garish eye,
While the bee with honied thigh,
That at her flowery work doth sing,
And the waters murmuring
With such consort as they keep,
Entice the dewy-feathered sleep.
Il Penseroso (1631)