William Drummond of Hawthornden Quotes
d. 1649 Scotland
William Drummond of Hawthornden (13 December 1585 – 4 December 1649) was a Scottish poet.
Random William Drummond of Hawthornden quote
19 quotes
God never had a church but there, men say,
The Devil a chapel hath raised by some wyles.
I doubted of this saw, till on a day
I westward spied great Edinburgh’s Saint Gyles.
What sweet delight a quiet life affords.
To die for faction is a common evil,
But to be hanged for nonsense is the Devil.
My life lies in those eyes which have me slain.
This is the morn should bring unto this grove
My love, to hear and recompense my love.
Poems (1616)
Here is the pleasant place,
And nothing wanted is, save She, alas!
Poems (1616)
So that my life be brave, what though not long?
Phœbus, arise!
And paint the sable skies
With azure, white, and red.
Poems (1616)
Rouse Memnons Mother from her Tythons Bed,
That Shee thy Cariere may with Roses spred.
Let Zephyr only breathe
And with her tresses play.
Thrice happy he, who by some shady grove,
Far from the clamorous world; doth live his own;
Though solitary, who is not alone,
But doth converse with that eternal love.
This Life, which seems so fair,
Is like a bubble blown up in the air
By sporting children's breath,
Who chase it every where
For what doth serve all that this world contains,
Sith she for whom those once to me were dear,
No part of them can have now with me here?
Poems (1616)
What doth it serve to see sun's burning face,
And skies enamelled with both the Indies' gold?
Or moon at night in jetty chariot roll'd,
And all the glory of that starry place?
Poems (1616)
The last and greatest herald of Heaven's King,
Girt with rough skins, hies to the deserts wild,
Among that savage brood the woods forth bring,
Which he than man more harmless found and mild.
My lute, be as thou wert when thou didst grow
With thy green mother in some shady grove,
When immelodious winds but made thee move,
And birds their ramage did on thee bestow.
Of this fair volume which we World do name
If we the sheets and leaves could turn with care,
Of him who it corrects, and did it frame,
We clear might read the art and wisdom rare.
Make an eternal spring;
Give life to this dark world which lieth dead.
Spread forth thy golden hair
In larger locks than thou wast wont before,
And emperor-like decore
With diadem of pearl thy temples fair.
Poems (1616)
Doth then the world go thus, doth all thus move?
Is this the justice which on Earth we find?
Is this that firm decree which all doth bind?
Are these your influences, Powers above?