He loves to sit and hear me sing, Then, laughing, sports and plays with me; Then stretches out my golden wing, And mocks my loss of liberty.
Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me: “Pipe a song about a Lamb.” So I piped with merry cheer; “Piper, pipe that song again.” So I piped; he wept to hear.
And I made a rural pen, And I stained the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every Child may joy to hear.
Does the Eagle know what is in the pit Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod, Or Love in a golden bowl?
The look of love alarms Because ’tis filled with fire; But the look of soft deceit Shall sin the lover’s hire.
How have you left the ancient love That bards of old enjoyed in you! The languid strings do scarcely move! The sound is forced, the notes are few!
How sweet I roamed from field to field, And tasted all the summer’s pride, Till I the prince of love beheld, Who in the sunny beams did glide!
My silks and fine array, My smiles and languished air, By love are driv’n away And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave: Such end true lovers have.
Listen to the fool’s reproach! It is a kingly title!
Where others see but the dawn coming over the hill, I see the soul of God shouting for joy.
He who pretends to be either painter or engraver without being a master of drawing is an imposter.
Hindsight is a wonderful thing but foresight is better, especially when it comes to saving life, or some pain!
The fox condemns the trap, not himself.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand.
Pride is a personal commitment. It is an attitude which separates excellence from mediocrity.
More! More! is the cry of a mistaken soul.
The person who does not believe in miracles surely makes it certain that he or she will never take part in one.
I cry, Love! Love! Love! happy happy Love! free as the mountain wind!
A dog starved at his master’s gate Predicts the ruin of the state.
Innate ideas are in every man, born with him; they are truly himself. The man who says that we have no innate ideas must be a fool and knave, having no conscience or innate science.