William Somervile Quotes
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The bird That glads the night had cheer'd the listening groves with sweet complainings.
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For the next inn he spurs amain, In haste alights, and skuds away, But time and tide for no man stay.
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Hail, gentle Dawn! mild blushing goddess, hail!Rejoic'd I see thy purple mantle spreadO'er half the skies, gems pave thy radiant way,And orient pearls from ev'ry shrub depend.
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Let all the learned say what they can, 'tis ready money makes the man.
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Prostrate on earth the bleeding warrior lies, And Isr'el's beauty on the mountains dies. How are the mighty fallen! Hush'd be my sorrow, gently fall my tears, Lest my sad tale should reach the alien's ears: Bid Fame be dumb, and tremble to proclaim In heathen Gath, or Ascalon, our shame Lest proud Philistia, lest our haughty foe, With impious scorn insult our solemn woe.
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Fortune is like a widow won,And truckles to the bold alone.