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Poor captive bird! Who, from thy narrow cage, Pourest such music, that it might assuage The rugged hearts of those who prisoned thee, Were they not deaf to all sweet melody.
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Heaven's ebon vault, Studded with stars unutterably bright, Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls, Seems like a canopy which love has spread To curtain her sleeping world.
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He is a portion of the loveliness Which once he made more lovely.
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Cease, cease, wayward Mortal! I dare not unveil The shadows that float o’er Eternity’s vale; Nought waits for the good but a spirit of Love, That will hail their blest advent to regions above. For Love, Mortal, gleams through the gloom of my sway, And the shades which surround me fly fast at its ray.
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Can man be free if woman be a slave?
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And many more Destructions played In this ghastly masquerade, All disguised, even to the eyes, Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.
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Is it not odd that the only generous person I ever knew, who had money to be generous with, should be a stockbroker.
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The man of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.
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You lie-under a mistake, For this is the most civil sort of lie That can be given to a man's face. I now Say what I think.
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Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can blast the flower, Even when in most unwary hour It blooms in Fancy’s bower. Age cannot Love destroy, But perfidy can rend the shrine In which its vermeil splendours shine.
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From the great morning of the world when first God dawned on Chaos.
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Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise! She knew not 'twas her own; as with no stain She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.
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We are all Greeks. Our laws, our literature, our religion, our arts have their root in Greece.
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Most wretched men Are cradled into poetry by wrong; They learn in suffering what they teach in song.
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Till the Future dares Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be An echo and a light unto eternity!
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Belief is involuntary; nothing involuntary is meritorious or reprehensible. A man ought not to be considered worse or better for his belief.
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All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil.
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He died, Who was the Sire of an immortal strain, Blind, old, and lonely.
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Yet now despair itself is mild, Even as the winds and waters are; I could lie down like a tired child, And weep away the life of care Which I have borne and yet must bear, Till death like sleep might steal on me, And I might feel in the warm air My cheek grow cold, and hear the sea Breathe o'er my dying brain its last monotony.
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Gold is a living god and rules in scorn, All earthly things but virtue.
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And bid them love each other and be blest: And leave the troop which errs, and which reproves, And come and be my guest, - for I am Love's.
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A Christian, a Deist, a Turk, and a Jew, have equal rights: they are men and brethren.
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If it be proved that the world is ruled by a Divine Power, no inference necessarily can be drawn from that circumstance in favour of a future state.
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The breath Of accusation kills an innocent name, And leaves for lame acquittal the poor life, Which is a mask without it.