Only nature knows how to justly proportion to the fault the punishment it deserves.
The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.
Death is the veil which those who live call life; They sleep, and it is lifted.
The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me?
Chameleons feed on light and air: Poets food is love and fame.
The everlasting universe of things Flows through the mind, and rolls its rapid waves, Now dark – now glittering – now reflecting gloom – Now lending splendour, where from secret springs The source of human thought its tribute brings.
Sounds of vernal showers On the twinkling grass, Rain awaken’d flowers, All that ever was Joyous, and clear, and fresh, thy music doth surpass.
Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may last!
For love and beauty and delight, there is no death nor change.
God is represented as infinite, eternal, incomprehensible; he is contained under every predicate in non that the logic of ignorance could fabricate.
He wanders, like a day-appearing dream, Through the dim wildernesses of the mind; Through desert woods and tracts, which seem Like ocean, homeless, boundless, unconfined.
The great secret of morals is Love; or a going out of our own nature, and an identification of ourselves with the beautiful which exists in thought, action, or person, not our own.
The splendors of the firmament of time May be eclipsed, but are extinguished not; Like stars to their appointed height they climb And death is a low mist which cannot blot The brightness it may veil.
Reviewers, with some rare exceptions, are a most stupid and malignant race. As a bankrupt thief turns thief-taker in despair, so an unsuccessful author turns critic.
A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift.
Truth has always been found to promote the best interests of mankind.
Thou Paradise of exiles, Italy!
Underneath Day’s azure eyes, Ocean’s nursling, Venice lies, A peopled labyrinth of walls, Amphitrite’s destined halls.
What do you think? Young women of rank eat – you will never guess what – garlick!