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Glorious Bard ! to whom belong
Wreaths not often claimed by song,
Those hung round the warrior's shield—
Laurels from the blood-red field.

— Letitia Elizabeth Landon

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More quotes by Letitia Elizabeth Landon

Hope is a timid thing,
Fearful, and weak, and born in suffering;
At least, such Hope as human life can bring.

Love, thou hast hopes like summers, short and bright,
Moments of ecstasy, and maddening dreams,
Intense delicious throbs!

The Improvisatrice (1824)

And Love is like the lightning in its might,
Winging where least bethought its fiery flight,
Melting the blade, despite the scabbard's guard.

The Golden Violet (1827)

His heart is like a maggot-eaten nut:
There's nothing in it ; but 'tis closely shut.

Great power is almost always a great evil.

Romance and Reality (1831)

All Letitia Elizabeth Landon quotes →

Attribution

Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Letitia Elizabeth Landon (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.