I am only accidentally French.
-Charles de Secondat (1689-1755),
Baron de Montesquieu,
Pensées et Jugements
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Trance
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on; Not to the sensual ear, but, more endeared, Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone: -John Keats (1795-1821), Ode on a Grecian Urn |
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I Remember
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! -Thomas Hood (1799-1845), I Remember, I Remember |
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Magic Sights
But in her web she still delights To weave the mirror's magic sights, For often through the silent nights A funeral, with plumes and lights And music, went to Camelot: -Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892), The Lady of Shalott |
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Kiss in the Night
"Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again! Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live! And in my heartless breast and burning brain That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else survive, With food of saddest memory kept alive, Now though art dead, as if it were a part Of thee, my Adonais! I would give All that I am, to be as though now art:-- But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart. -Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822), Adonais |