The World's Best Poetry, Volume 10: Poetical Quotations — Story, Setting & Ideas

Long did his wife, Suckling her babe, her only one, look out The way he went at parting,--but he came not! _Italy_. S. ROGERS.

With what a deep devotedness of woe I wept thy absence--o'er and o'er again Thinking of thee, still thee, till thought grew pain, And memory, like a drop that, night and day Falls cold and ceaseless, wore my heart away! _Lalla Rookh: Veiled Prophet of Khorassan_. T. MOORE.

Condemned whole years in absence to deplore, And image charms he must behold no more. _Eloise to Abélard_. A. POPE.

The flighty purpose never is o'ertook, Unless the deed go with it. _Macbeth, Act_. iv. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

If our virtues Did not go forth of us, 't were all alike As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touched, But to fine issues; nor Nature never lends The smallest scruple of her excellence. But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines Herself the glory of a creditor-- Both thanks and use. _Measure for Measure, Act_ i. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

We must not stint Our necessary actions, in the fear To cope malicious censurers. _King Henry VIII., Act_ i. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. _Merchant of Venice, Act_ v. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Our acts our angels are, or good or ill. Our fatal shadows that walk by us still. _An Honest Man's Fortune_. J. FLETCHER.

She is pretty to walk with, And witty to talk with, And pleasant, too, to think on. _Brennoralt, Act_ ii. SIR J. SUCKLING.

But from the hoop's bewitching round, Her very shoe has power to wound. _Fables: The Spider and the Bee_. E. MOORE.

That eagle's fate and mine are one. Which, on the shaft that made him die, Espied a feather of his own, Wherewith he wont to soar so high. _To a Lady singing a Song of his Composing_. E. WALLER.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! O, that I were a glove upon that hand, That I might touch that cheek! _Romeo and Juliet, Act_ ii. _Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

The light that lies In woman's eyes. _The time I've lost in Wooing_. T. MOORE.

Is she not more than painting can express, Or youthful poets fancy when they love? _The Fair Penitent, Act_ iii. _Sc_. 1. N. ROWE.

O, thou art fairer than the evening air Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars. _Faustus_. C. MARLOWE.

The dimple that thy chin contains has beauty in its round That never has been fathomed yet by myriad thoughts profound. _Odes, CXLIII_. HAFIZ.

Beauty stands In the admiration only of weak minds Led captive. Cease to admire, and all her plumes Fall flat and shrink into a trivial toy, At every sudden slighting quite abashed. _Paradise Regained, Bk. II_. MILTON.

The ornament of beauty is suspect, A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. _Sonnet LXX_. SHAKESPEARE.

A native grace Sat fair-proportioned in her polished limbs, Veiled in a simple robe their best attire. Beyond the pomp of dress; for loveliness Needs not the foreign aid of ornament, But is, when unadorned, adorned the most. _The Seasons: Autumn_. J. THOMSON.

She's adorned Amply that in her husband's eye looks lovely,-- The truest mirror that an honest wife Can see her beauty in. _The Honeymoon, Act iii. Sc. 4_. J. TOBIN.

Terrible he rode alone, With his Yemen sword for aid; Ornament it carried none, But the notches on the blade. _The Death Feud. An Arab War Song. Anonymous Translation_.

Naught venture, naught have. _Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry. October's Abstract_. T. TUSSER.

We must take the current when it serves, Or lose our ventures. _Julius Cæsar, Act iv. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Fierce warres, and faithful loves shall moralize my song. _Faërie Queene, Bk. I. Proem_. E. SPENSER.

Send danger from the east unto the west, So honor cross it from the north to south, And let them grapple: O! the blood more stirs To rouse a lion than to start a hare!

By Heaven, methinks, it were an easy leap, To pluck bright honor from the pale-faced moon, Or dive into the bottom of the deep, Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, And pluck up drowned honor by the locks. _K. Henry IV., Pt. I. Act i. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

A wild dedication of yourselves To unpathed waters, undreamed shores. _Winter's Tale, Act_ iv. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Sweet are the uses of adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in his head. _As You Like It, Act_ i. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

Calamity is man's true touchstone. _Four Plays in One: The Triumph of Honor, Sc_. 1. BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days, On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues. _Paradise Lost, Bk. VII_. MILTON.

Tho' losses and crosses Be lessons right severe, There's wit there, ye'll get there, Ye'll find nae otherwhere. _Epistle to Davie_. R. BURNS.

By adversity are wrought The greatest work of admiration, And all the fair examples of renown Out of distress and misery are grown. _On the Earl of Southampton_. S. DANIEL.

Aromatic plants bestow No spicy fragrance while they grow; But crushed or trodden to the ground, Diffuse their balmy sweets around. _The Captivity, Act_ i. O. GOLDSMITH.

The Good are better made by Ill, As odors crushed are sweeter still. _Jacqueline_. S. ROGERS.

Daughter of Jove, relentless power, Thou tamer of the human breast. Whose iron scourge and torturing hour The bad affright, afflict the best! _Hymn to Adversity_. T. GRAY.

'T is better to be lowly born, And range with humble livers in content. Than to be perked up in a glistering grief, And wear a golden sorrow. _King Henry VIII., Act_ ii. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

As if Misfortune made the throne her seat, And none could be unhappy but the great. _The Fair Penitent: Prologue_. N. ROWE.

None think the great unhappy, but the great. _Love of Fame, Satire I_. DR. E. YOUNG.

My pride fell with my fortunes. _As You Like It, Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

We have seen better days. _Timon of Athens, Act iv. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

If ever you have looked on better days; If ever been where bells have knolled to church. _As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow, By thinking on fantastic Summer's heat? O, no! the apprehension of the good Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. _King Richard II., Act i. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

A poor, infirm, weak, and despised old man. _King Lear, Act iii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Eating the bitter bread of banishment. _King Richard II., Act iii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. _Merchant of Venice, Act i. Sc. 8_. SHAKESPEARE.

Lord of himself,--that heritage of woe! _Lara, Canto I_. LORD BYRON.

Lord of thy presence, and no land beside. _King John, Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Heaven is not always angry when he strikes, But most chastises those whom most he likes. _Verses to his Friend under Affliction_. J. POMFRET.

As sunshine, broken in the rill, Though turned astray, is sunshine still. _Fire Worshippers_. T. MOORE.

On Fortune's cap we are not the very button. _Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Cheered up himself with ends of verse, And sayings of philosophers. _Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto III_. S. BUTLER.

O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road, To wretches such as I! _Despondency_. R. BURNS.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity. _Comedy of Errors, Act ii. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Affliction's sons are brothers in distress; A brother to relieve, how exquisite the bliss! _A Winter Night_. R. BURNS.

Henceforth I'll bear Affliction till it do cry out itself, Enough, enough, and die. _King Lear, Act iv. Sc_. 6. SHAKESPEARE.

On me, on me Time and change can heap no more! The painful past with blighting grief Hath left my heart a withered leaf. Time and change can do no more. _Dirge_. R.H. HORNE.

I wish thy lot, now bad, still worse, my friend, For when at worst, they say, things always mend. _To a Friend in Distress_. DR. J. OWEN.

The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees Is left this vault to brag of. _Macbeth, Act ii. Sc_. 8. SHAKESPEARE.

Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward To what they were before. _Macbeth, Act iv. Sc_. 2. SHAKESPEARE.

I am not now in fortune's power; He that is down can fall no lower. _Hudibras, Pt. I. Canto III_. S. BUTLER.

The worst is not So long as we can say, _This is the worst. King Lear, Act iv. Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

The worst men often give the best advice. Our deeds are sometimes better than our thoughts, _Festus: Sc. A Village Feast_. P.J. BAILEY.

I pray thee cease thy counsel. Which falls into mine ears as profitless As water in a sieve. _Much Ado About Nothing, Act v. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

O Life! how pleasant in thy morning. Young Fancy's rays the hills adorning! Cold-pausing Caution's lesson scorning, We frisk away, Like schoolboys at th' expected warning, To joy and play. _Epistle to James Smith_. B. BURNS.

Know when to speake; for many times it brings Danger to give the best advice to kings. _Hesperides' Caution in Councell._ R. HEBRICK.

I'm growing fonder of my staff; I'm growing dimmer in the eyes; I'm growing fainter in my laugh; I'm growing deeper in my sighs; I'm growing careless of my dress; I'm growing frugal of my gold; I'm growing wise; I'm growing,--yes,-- I'm growing old. _I'm Growing Old_. J.G. SAXE.

And his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. _As You Like It, Act ii. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

Time has laid his hand Upon my heart, gently, not smiting it, But as a harper lays his open palm Upon his harp, to deaden its vibrations. _The Golden Legend, IV_. H.W. LONGFELLOW.

Years steal Fire from the mind, as vigor from the limb; And life's enchanted cup but sparkles near the brim. _Childe Harold, Canto III_. LORD BYRON.

For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time Steals ere we can effect them. _All's Well that Ends Well, Act v. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

Strange! that a harp of thousand strings Should keep in tune so long. _Hymns and Spiritual Songs, Bk. II_. DR. I. WATTS.

Thus aged men, full loth and slow, The vanities of life forego, And count their youthful follies o'er, Till Memory lends her light no more. _Rokeby, Canto V_. SIR W. SCOTT.

Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; For in my youth I never did apply Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood; Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo The means of weakness and debility; Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, Frosty, but kindly. _As You Like, It. Act_ ii. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

But grant, the virtues of a temp'rate prime Bless with an age exempt from scorn or crime; An age that melts with unperceived decay, And glides in modest innocence away. _Vanity of Human Wishes_. DR. S. JOHNSON.

Who soweth good seed shall surely reap; The year grows rich as it groweth old, And life's latest sands are its sands of gold! _To the "Bouquet Club."_ J.C.R. DORR.

The spring, like youth, fresh blossoms doth produce, But autumn makes them ripe and fit for use: So Age a mature mellowness doth set On the green promises of youthful heat. _Cato Major, Pt. IV_. SIR J. DENHAM.

My May of life Is fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf: And that which should accompany old age, As honor, love, obedience, troops of friends, I must not look to have; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud, but deep, mouth-honor, breath, Which the poor heart would fain deny, and dare not. _Macbeth, Act_ v. _Sc_. 3. SHAKESPEARE.

What is the worst of woes that wait on age? What stamps the wrinkle deeper on the brow? To view each loved one blotted from life's page, And be alone on earth as I am now. _Childe Harold, Canto II_. LORD BYRON.

His silver hairs Will purchase us a good opinion, And buy men's voices to commend our deeds; It shall be said--his judgment ruled our hands. _Julius Cæsar, Act_ ii. _Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. _King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

So may'st thou live, till like ripe fruit thou drop Into thy mother's lap, or be with ease Gathered, not harshly plucked for death mature. _Paradise Lost, Bk. XI_. MILTON.

DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat: the air Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself Unto our gentle senses.

BANQUO.... The heaven's breath Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, Buttress, nor coigne of vantage, but this bird Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, The air is delicate. _Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 6_. SHAKESPEARE.

Joyous the birds; fresh gales and gentle airs Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings Flung rose, flung odors from the spicy shrub. _Paradise Lost, Bk. VIII_. MILTON.

HAMLET. The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold.

HORATIO. It is a nipping and an 'eager air. _Hamlet, Act i. Sc. 4_. SHAKESPEARE.

The parching air Burns frore, and cold performs the effect of fire. _Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air. _Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

As one who long in populous city pent, Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air. _Paradise Lost, Bk. IX_, MILTON.

Nor waste their sweetness in the desert air. _Gotham, Bk. II_. C. CHURCHILL.

Ambition is our idol, on whose wings Great minds are carried only to extreme; To be sublimely great, or to be nothing. _The Loyal Brother, Act i. Sc. 1_. T. SOUTHERNE.

To reign is worth ambition, though in hell: Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven. _Paradise Lost, Bk. I_. MILTON.

Rather than be less Cared not to be at all. _Paradise Lost, Bk. II_. MILTON.

Lowliness is young ambition's ladder, Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; But when he once attains the upmost round, He then unto the ladder turns his back, Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees By which he did ascend. _Julius Cæsar, Act ii. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

I have no spur To prick the sides of my intent; but only Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself, And falls on the other. _Macbeth, Act i. Sc. 7_. SHAKESPEARE.

But wild ambition loves to slide, not stand, And Fortune's ice prefers to Virtue's land. _Absalom and Achitophel, Pt. I_. J. DRYDEN.

Ambition's monstrous stomach does increase By eating, and it fears to starve unless It still may feed, and all it sees devour. _Playhouse to Let_. SIR W. DAVENANT.

But see how oft ambition's aims are crossed, And chiefs contend 'til all the prize is lost! _Rape of the Lock, Canto V_. A. POPE.

O, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise, By mountains piled on mountains to the skies? Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. _Essay on Man, Epistle IV_. A. POPE.

The very substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. _Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Why then doth flesh, a bubble-glass of breath, Hunt after honour and advancement vain, And rear a trophy for devouring death? _Ruins of Time_. E. SPENSER.

Oh, sons of earth! attempt ye still to rise By mountains piled on mountains to the skies? Heaven still with laughter the vain toil surveys, And buries madmen in the heaps they raise. _Essay on Man_. A. POPE.

In this dim world of clouding cares, We rarely know, till 'wildered eyes See white wings lessening up the skies, The Angels with us unawares. _Ballad of Babe Christabel_. G. MASSEY.

Around our pillows golden ladders rise, And up and down the skies, With wingèd sandals shod, The angels come, and go, the Messengers of God! Nor, though they fade from us, do they depart-- It is the childly heart: We walk as heretofore, Adown their shining ranks, but see them nevermore. _Hymn to the Beautiful_. R.H. STODDARD.

For God will deign To visit oft the dwellings of just men Delighted, and with frequent intercourse Thither will send his wingèd messengers On errands of supernal grace. _Paradise Lost, Bk. VII_. MILTON.

But sad as angels for the good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in. _The Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II_. T. CAMPBELL.

What though my wingèd hours of bliss have been, Like angel-visits, few and far between. _The Pleasures of Hope, Pt. II_. T. CAMPBELL.

Anger is like A full-hot horse; who being allowed his way, Self-mettle tires him. _King Henry VIII., Act i. Sc 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Being once chased, he cannot Be reined again to temperance; then he speaks What's in his heart. _Coriolanus, Act iii. Sc. 3_. SHAKESPEARE.

I am very sorry, good Horatio, That to Laertes I forgot myself,

But, sure, the bravery of his grief did put me Into a towering passion. _Hamlet, Act v. Sc. 2_. SHAKESPEARE.

Senseless, and deformed, Convulsive Anger storms at large; or, pale And silent, settles into fell revenge. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

Be advised; Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot That it do singe yourself: we may outrun. By violent swiftness, that which we run at, And lose by over-running. _King Henry VIII., Act i. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

Never anger made good guard for itself. _Antony and Cleopatra, Act iv. Sc. 1_. SHAKESPEARE.

All's fish they get That cometh to net. _Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry_. T. TUSSER.

In genial spring, beneath the quivering shade, Where cooling vapors breathe along the mead, The patient fisher takes his silent stand, Intent, his angle trembling in his hand; With looks unmoved, he hopes the scaly breed, And eyes the dancing cork, and bending reed. _Windsor Forest_. A. POPE.

Now is the time, While yet the dark-brown water aids the guile, To tempt the trout. The well-dissembled fly, The rod fine tapering with elastic spring, Snatched from the hoary steed the floating line, And all thy slender wat'ry stores prepare. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

Just in the dubious point, where with the pool Is mixed the trembling stream, or where it boils Around the stone, or from the hollowed bank Reverted plays in undulating flow, There throw, nice judging, the delusive fly; And as you lead it round in artful curve, With eye attentive mark the springing game. Straight as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap, Then fix, with gentle twitch, the barbed hook: Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank, And to the shelving shore slow-dragging some, With various hand proportioned to their force. _The Seasons: Spring_. J. THOMSON.

Give me mine angle, we'll to the river; there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finned fishes; my bended hook shall pierce Their shiny jaws. _Antony and Cleopatra, Act_ ii. _Sc_. 5. SHAKESPEARE.

His angle-rod made of a sturdy oak; His line a cable which in storms ne'er broke; His hook he baited with a dragon's tail, And sat upon a rock, and bobbed for whale. _Upon a Giant's Angling_. W. KING.

A harmless necessary cat. _Merchant of Venice, Act_ iv. _Sc_. 1. SHAKESPEARE.

Confound the cats! All cats--alway-- Cats of all colors, black, white, gray; By night a nuisance and by day-- Confound the cats! _A Dithyramb on Cats_. O.T. DOBBIN.

I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you? _On the Collar of a Dog_. A. POPE.

The little dogs and all, Tray, Blanche, and Sweetheart, see, they bark at me. _King Lear, Act_ iii _Sc_. 6. SHAKESPEARE.

How, in his mid-career, the spaniel struck, Stiff, by the tainted gale, with open nose, Outstretched and finely sensible, draws full, Fearful and cautious, on the latent prey. _The Seasons: Autumn_. J. THOMSON.

A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse! _King Richard III., Act_ v. _Sc_. 4. SHAKESPEARE.

The courser pawed the ground with restless feet, And snorting foamed, and champed the golden bit. _Palamon and Arcite, Pt. III_. J. DRYDEN.