The stars are forth, the moon above the tops Of the snow-shining mountains--beautiful! I linger yet with nature, for the night Hath been to me a more familiar face Than that of man, and in her starry shade Of dim and solitary loveliness I learned the language of another world.
In itself a thought, a slumbering thought is capable of years; and curdles a long life into one hour.
It is by far the most elegant worship, hardly excepting the Greek mythology. What with incense, pictures, statues, altars, shrines, relics, and the real presence, confession, absolution, - there is something sensible to grasp at. Besides, it leaves no possibility of doubt; for those who swallow their Deity, really and truly, in transubstantiation, can hardly find any thing else otherwise than easy of digestion.
I am so convinced of the advantages of looking at mankind instead of reading about them, . . . that I think there should be a law amongst us to set our young men abroad for a term among the few allies our wars have left us.
Let not his mode of raising cash seem strange, Although he fleeced the flags of every nation, For into a prime minister but change His title, and 'tis nothing but taxation.
But quiet to quick bosoms is a hell.
But mighty Nature bounds as from her birth; The sun is in the heavens, and life on earth: Flowers in the valley, splendor in the beam, Health on the gale, and freshness in the stream.
Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes; But no too humbly, or she will despise Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes: Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.
The Niobe of nations! there she stands.
I am the very slave of circumstance And impulse -- borne away with every breath!
'Twas strange that one so young should thus concern His brain about the action of the sky; If you think 'twas philosophy that this did, I can't help thinking puberty assisted.
But beef is rare within these oxless isles; Goat's flesh there is, no doubt, and kid, and mutton; And, when a holiday upon them smiles, A joint upon their barbarous spits they put on.
I have a great mind to believe in Christianity for the mere pleasure of fancying I may be damned.
This man is freed from servile bands, Of hope to rise, or fear to fall; Lord of himself, though not of lands, And leaving nothing, yet hath all.
If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.
I had a dream, which was not at all a dream.
Letter writing is the only device combining solitude with good company.
What opposite discoveries we have seen! (Signs of true genius, and of empty pockets.) One makes new noses, one a guillotine, One breaks your bones, one sets them in their sockets; But vaccination certainly has been A kind antithesis to Congreve's rockets.
Now I shall go to sleep. Goodnight.
Dreading that climax of all human ills the inflammation of his weekly bills.
A thirst for gold, The beggar's vice, which can but overwhelm The meanest hearts.
Shelley is truth itself and honour itself notwithstanding his out-of-the-way notions about religion.
Fill high the cup with Samian wine!
Oh, Mirth and Innocence! Oh, Milk and Water! Ye happy mixture of more happy days!
In hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell.
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