655 quotes
O dream of fame, what hast thou been to me
But the destroyer of life's calm content!
The Golden Violet (1827)
It is amazing how oppressive is the cleverness of some people, as if it were quite a duty in you to be clever too—
Romance and Reality (1831)
Let worldly coldness and care depart,
And yield to the spell of the minstrel's art.
The Golden Violet (1827)
Alas! alas! how plague-spot like will sin
Spread over the wrung heart it enters in!
The Venetian Bracelet (1829)
Death never excites such sympathy as it does when it assumes the shape of murder.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
There is an antique gem, on which her brow
Retains its graven beauty even now.
The Golden Violet (1827)
Distrust is an acquired feeling — we never doubt till we have been deceived ...
Francesca Carrara (1834)
Love may be increased with fears,
May be fanned with sighs,
Nurst by fancies, fed by doubts
But without Hope it dies!
The Improvisatrice (1824)
It is like love ; oh love should be
An ever-changing thing, —
The love that I could worship must
Be ever on the wing.
The Vow of the Peacock (1835)
It is the veriest madness man
In maddest mood can frame,
To feed the earth with human gore,
And then to call it fame.
He must be rich whom I could love,
His fortune clear must be,
Whether in land or in the funds,
'Tis all the same to me.
The sunshine of the morning
Is abroad upon the hills,
With the singing of the green-wood leaves,
And of a thousand rills.
The Golden Violet (1827)
Thrice venomed is the wound when 'tis Love's hand
Inflicts the blow.
I see clearly that society is as much a science as astronomy; and, also, that, like poetry, one must be born with a genius for it.
Philosophers are moral, and poets are picturesque about the country.
So much to win, so much to lose,
No marvel that I fear to choose.
The Golden Violet (1827)
Dreary it is the path to trace,
Step by step of sin's wild race.
The Golden Violet (1827)
No one makes the heart of a little home circle entirely their own, without some very sweet gifts of nature — we must love to be beloved.
The bride was young and beautiful, the bridegroom stern and old,—
But the silken rein was hung with pearls, the housings bright with gold.
Heath's book of Beauty, 1833 (1832)
It is a cruel proof of the want of generosity in human nature, that an affection too utterly self-sacrificing always meets with an evil return.