All Quotes

"Sharers of our glorious past, Brothers, must we part at last? Shall we not through good and ill Cleave to one another still? Britain's myriad voices call, 'Sons, be welded each and all, Into one imperial whole, One with Britain, heart and soul! One life, one flag, one fleet, one Throne!' Britons, hold your own!"

"O young Mariner, You from the haven Under the sea-cliff, You that are watching The gray Magician With eyes of wonder, I am Merlin, And I am dying, I am Merlin Who follow The Gleam."

"Once at the croak of a Raven who crost it, A barbarous people, Blind to the magic, And deaf to the melody, Snarl’d at and cursed me. A demon vext me, The light retreated, The landskip darken’d, The melody deaden’d, The Master whisper’d ‘Follow The Gleam.’"

"Well, Gosse, would you like to know what I think of Churton Collins? I think he's a Louse on the Locks of Literature."

"This laurel greener from the brows Of him that utter'd nothing base."

"And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons, when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet."

"Broad-based upon her people’s will, And compass'd by the inviolate sea."

"For it was in the golden prime Of good Haroun Alraschid."

"A man had given all other bliss, And all his worldly worth for this, To waste his whole heart in one kiss Upon her perfect lips."

"As she fled fast through sun and shade The happy winds upon her played, Blowing the ringlet from the braid."

"God gives us love. Something to love He lends us; but when love is grown To ripeness, that on which it throve Falls off, and love is left alone."

"Sleep sweetly, tender heart, in peace! Sleep, holy spirit, blessed soul, While the stars burn, the moons increase, And the great ages onward roll."

"Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet! Nothing comes to thee new or strange. Sleep full of rest from head to feet; Lie still, dry dust, secure of change."

"More black than ash-buds in the front of March."

"We are ancients of the earth, And in the morning of the times."

"For now the poet can not die, Nor leave his music as of old, But round him ere he scarce be cold Begins the scandal and the cry."

"Mastering the lawless science of our law,— That codeless myriad of precedent, That wilderness of single instances."

"Insipid as the queen upon a card."

"O Love! what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize and vine!"

"So dear a life your arms enfold, Whose crying is a cry for gold."

"Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed."

""I'll never love any but you," the morning song of the lark; "I'll never love any but you," the nightingale's hymn in the dark."

"My God, I would not live Save that I think this gross hard-seeming world Is our misshaping vision of the Powers Behind the world, that make our griefs our gains."

"The golden guess Is morning-star to the full round of truth."

"No sound is breathed so potent to coerce And to conciliate, as their names who dare For that sweet mother-land which gave them birth Nobly to do, nobly to die."

"A princelier-looking man never stept thro' a prince's hall."

"Slav, Teuton, Kelt, I count them all My friends and brother souls, With all the peoples, great and small, That wheel between the poles."

"The song that nerves a nation's heart Is in itself a deed."

"What use to brood? This life of mingled pains And joys to me, Despite of every Faith and Creed, remains The Mystery."

"Be patient. Our Playwright may show In some fifth act what this wild Drama means."

"In our windy world What's up is faith, what's down is heresy."

"A breath that fleets beyond this iron world And touches him who made it."

"Old men must die, or the world would grow mouldy, would only breed the past again."

"Ambition Is like the sea wave, which the more you drink The more you thirst—yea—drink too much, as men Have done on rafts of wreck—it drives you mad."

"A good woman is a wondrous creature, cleaving to the right and to the good under all change: lovely in youthful comeliness, lovely all her life long in comeliness of heart."

"Thou who stealest fire, From the fountains of the past, To glorify the present; oh, haste, Visit my low desire! Strengthen me, enlighten me! I faint in this obscurity, Thou dewy dawn of memory."

"In sweet dreams softer than unbroken rest Thou leddest by the hand thine infant Hope. The eddying of her garments caught from thee The light of thy great presence; and the cope Of the half-attain'd futurity, Though deep not fathomless, Was cloven with the million stars which tremble O'er the deep mind of dauntless infancy."

"Come forth I charge thee, arise, Thou of the many tongues, the myriad eyes! Thou comest not with shows of flaunting vines Unto mine inner eye, Divinest Memory!"

"Whither in after life retired From brawling storms, From weary wind, With youthful fancy reinspired, We may hold converse with all forms Of the many-sided mind, And those whom passion hath not blinded, Subtle-thoughted, myriad-minded."

"When will the stream be aweary of flowing Under my eye? When will the wind be aweary of blowing Over the sky? When will the clouds be aweary of fleeting? When will the heart be aweary of beating? And nature die? Never, oh! never, nothing will die; The stream flows, The wind blows, The cloud fleets, The heart beats, Nothing will die."

"Nothing will die; All things will change Thro’ eternity. ‘Tis the world’s winter; Autumn and summer Are gone long ago; Earth is dry to the centre, But spring, a new comer, A spring rich and strange, Shall make the winds blow Round and round, Thro’ and thro’, Here and there, Till the air And the ground Shall be fill’d with life anew."

"The world was never made; It will change, but it will not fade. So let the wind range; For even and morn Ever will be Thro’ eternity. Nothing was born; Nothing will die; All things will change."

"The poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above; Dower'd with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn, The love of love. He saw thro' life and death, thro' good and ill, He saw thro' his own soul. The marvel of the everlasting will, An open scroll, Before him lay; with echoing feet he threaded The secretest walks of fame: The viewless arrows of his thoughts were headed And wing'd with flame, Like Indian reeds blown from his silver tongue..."

"So many minds did gird their orbs with beams, Tho' one did fling the fire; Heaven flow'd upon the soul in many dreams Of high desire."

"Thus truth was multiplied on truth, the world Like one great garden show'd, And thro' the wreaths of floating dark up-curl'd, Rare sunrise flow'dAnd Freedom rear'd in that august sunrise Her beautiful bold brow, When rites and forms before his burning eyes Melted like snow."

"There was no blood upon her maiden robes Sunn'd by those orient skies; But round about the circles of the globes Of her keen And in her raiment's hem was traced in flame WISDOM, a name to shake All evil dreams of power — a sacred name. And when she spake, Her words did gather thunder as they ran, And as the lightning to the thunder Which follows it, riving the spirit of man, Making earth wonder, So was their meaning to her words. No sword Of wrath her right arm whirl'd, But one poor poet's scroll, and with his word She shook the world."

"Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown: You thought to break a country heart For pastime, ere you went to town. At me you smiled, but unbeguiled I saw the snare, and I retired; The daughter of a hundred earls, You are not one to be desired."

"A simple maiden in her flower Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms."

"You sought to prove how I could love, And my disdain is my reply. The lion on your old stone gates Is not more cold to you than I."

"Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere."