655 quotes
How often will the lip frame some indifferent question, when the heart is full of the most important!
The Talisman
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
And there the lovely Lily grew,
The summer's purest flower,
And many a tiny fairy knew
The shelter of its bower
They built a temple for the God,
'Twas in a myrtle grove,
Where the bee and the butterfly
Vied for each blossom's love.
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
Ah, the sweet present ! — should it not suffice ?
Not to humanity, which vainly tries
To lift the curtain that may never rise !
The wretch who on the scaffold stands
Has some brief time allow'd
For parting grasp of kindly hands,
For farewell to the crowd
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
But wit cuts its bright way through the glass-door of public favour
It was my evil star above,
Not my sweet lute, that wrought me wrong;
It was not song that taught me love,
But it was love that taught me song.
The Improvisatrice (1824)
When years have past
Over the fallen arch, the ruin'd hall,
It seems but course of time, the one great doom,
Whose influence is alike upon us all
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Now out upon you, Christmas !
Is this the merry time
When the red hearth blazed, the harper sung,
And the bells rung their glorious chime ? . . .
But in this world every thing has its evil ; the dust is on the wheels of the conqueror's chariot—the silken-wrought tapestry covers the mouldering wall
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
The lark is with triumphant song
Singing the rose-touched clouds among:
'Tis there that lighted song has birth,
What hath such hymn to do with earth?
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
I Give thee, love, a blooming braid;
I cull'd it at eve's 'witching hour ;
I twin'd it in the moon's sweet shade,
When starlight dew was on each flower.
The Fate of Adelaide (1821)
Love's gifts are like the vein of gold
That intersects earth's darker mould;
The gold is gained, the coin is wrought;
But how much trouble has it brought?
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
Courage is like an angel at my heart !
And had he not long read
Her heart's hush'd secret in the soft dark eye
Lighted at his approach, and on the cheek
Colouring all crimson at his lightest look?
The Golden Violet (1827)
Sound peculiarly appeals to memory.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
The fearless make their own way.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
Those sweet, vague sounds are on the air,
Half sleep, half song--half false, half true,
As if the wind that brought them there
Had touched them with its music too.
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
Expectation makes a long delay.
Black (for such the quarries yield
Where the sun hath never shone,
Which night only rests upon,
Was the marble floor, which gave
Mirror like some clear dark wave.