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At the close of the day when the hamlet is still, And mortals the sweets of forgetfulness prove, When naught but the torrent is heard on the hill, And naught but the nightingale’s song in the grove.
— James Beattie
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More quotes by James Beattie
Zealous, yet modest; innocent, though free; Patient of toil, serene amidst alarms; Inflexible in faith, invincible in arms.
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)
Old age comes on apace to ravage all the clime.
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)
To the pure soul by Fancy's fire refined, Ah, what is mirth but turbulence unholy, When with the charm compared of heavenly melancholy.
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)
Wilt thou debase the heart which God refined? No; let thy heaven-taught soul to heaven aspire, To fancy, freedom, harmony, resigned; Ambition's groveling crew forever left behind.
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)
Ah, who can tell how hard it is to climb The steep where Fame’s proud temple shines afar?
The Minstrel; or, The Progress of Genius (1771)
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