655 quotes
There is no denying the fact, that in all sudden emergencies a woman has ten times the presence of mind, or, to use the common expression, her wits more about her than a man.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
The fair face painted on the dungeon air,
By the strong force of hope, distinct and sweet,
Is a good omen. Love mine, I will rest.
If my last sleep — it will be full of thee.
There stood she, even as a statue stands,
With head droop'd downward, and with clasped hands;
Such small white hands that match'd her ivory feet,
How may they bear that scorching fire to meet?
The Golden Violet (1827)
Ah, deeply the Minstrel has felt all he sings,
Every passion he paints his own bosom has known ;
No note of wild music is swept from the strings,
But first his own feelings have echoed the tone.
The dream on the pillow,
That flits with the day,
The leaf of the willow
A breath wears away;
The dust on the blossom,
The spray on the sea;
Ay,—ask thine own bosom—
Are emblems of thee.
Blue hyacinths!
Oh, do not show them me; they fill my eyes
With tears too soft for such a scene as this.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Alas ! alas ! too often conscience sleeps,
When pleasure's syren numbers lull its rest.—
The Fate of Adelaide (1821)
Another year, another year,—
Alas! and must it be
That Time's most dark and weary wheel
Must turn again for me?
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
I am spectator, not partaker, here.
To me it seems more like a pageant made
To represent mirth, than the mirth itself.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Alas!
We give our destiny from our own hands,
And trust to those most frail of all frail things,
The chances of humanity.
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Expectation is in itself a very pretty sort of reality.
Well may storm be on the sky,
And the waters roll on high,
When MANMADIN passes by.
Earth below and heaven above
Well may bend to thee, oh Love!
The Improvisatrice (1824)
Ridicule is the re-action of enthusiasm. Sentiment was considered confined to schools ; and, so far from affecting too much feeling, people were beginning to be ashamed of having any.
Sleep, little Paul, what, crying, hush ! the night is very dark ;
The wolves are near the rampart, the dogs begin to bark ;
The bell has rung for slumber, and the guardian angel weeps
When a little child beside the hearth so late a play-time keeps.
Ah! never is that cherished face
Banished from its accustomed place—
It shines upon my weariest night
It leads me on in thickest fight:
All that seems most opposed to be
Is yet associate with thee—
Together life and thee depart,
Dream—idol—treasure of my heart.
I may be kind,
And meet with kindness, yet be lonely still;
For gratitude is not companionship.—
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
We might have been !— these are but common words,
And yet they make the sum of life's bewailing
. . . the desolate
Is doubly sorrowful when it recalls
It was not always desolate.
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
For misery, like a masquer, mocks at all
In which it has no part, or one of gall
The Golden Violet (1827)
Oh! frail are the many links that are
In the chain of affection's tender care
The Golden Violet (1827)