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 (1735-1803)
-- The Hermit
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 (1735-1803)
-- The Hermit
Related:
- But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
Oh when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?
James Beattie (1735-1803) -- The... - It is naught, it is naught, saith the buyer; but when he is gone his
way,
then he boasteth. -- Old Testament -- Proverbs xx... - And beauty immortal awakes from the tomb.
--
James Beattie (1735-1803) -- The... - By the glare of false science betray'd,
That leads to bewilder,
and dazzles to blind. -- James Beattie (1735-1803)... - He thought as a sage, though he felt as a man.
--
James Beattie (1735-1803) -- The... - Forever, Fortune, wilt thou prove
An unrelenting foe to love;
And when we meet a mutual heart, Come in between and... - Naught venture naught have.
-- Thomas Tusser (c. 1515-1580)
-
October's... - As it fell upon a day
In the merry month of May,
Sitting in a pleasant shade
Which a grove of myrtles made.
Richard Barnfield (1574-1627) -- Address to the... - The Advertising Agency Song:
When your client's hopping mad,
Put his picture in the ad. If he still should prove...
