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Everything ends with songs. [Fr., Tout finit par des chansons.] - Pierre Auguste Caron de Beaumarchais, Mariage de Figaro (end) Sing a song of sixpence. - Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher, Bonduca (act V, sc. 2) I cannot sing the old songs Though well I know the tune, Familiar as a cradle-song With sleep-compelling croon; Yet though I'm filled with music, As choirs of summer birds, "I cannot sing the old songs"-- I do not know the words. - Robert Jones Burdette, Songs Without Words All this for a song. - Lord William Cecil Burghley (Burleigh), 1st Baron Burghley, to Queen Elizabeth I when ordered to give 10 pounds to Spenser I can not sing the old songs now! It is not that I deem them low, 'Tis that I can't remember how They go. - Charles Stuart Calverley, Changed Unlike my subject, I will make my song. It shall be witty, and it shan't be long. - 4th Earl of Chesterfield, Philip Dormer Stanhope, Preface to Letters (vol. 1) A song of hate is a song of Hell; Some there be who sing it well. Let them sing it loud and long, We lift our hearts in a loftier song: We life our hearts to Heaven above, Singing the glory of her we love, England. - Helen Gray Cone, Chant of Love for England And heaven had wanted one immortal song. - John Dryden, Absalom and Achitophel (pt. I, l. 197) Verse sweetens toil, however rude the sound; She feels no biting pang the while she sings, Nor as she turns the giddy wheel around, Revolves the sad vicissitudes of things. - William Gifford, Contemplation He play'd an ancient ditty long since mute, In Provence call'd, "La belle dame sans merci." - John Keats (1), The Eve of St. Agnes (st. 33), "La Belle Dame, sans Merci" is a poem written by Alain Chartier We are tenting tonight on the old camp ground, Give us a song to cheer. - Walter Kittridge, Tenting on the Old Camp Ground In the ink of our sweat we will find it yet, The song that is fit for men! - Frederic Lawrence Knowles The song on its mighty pinions Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Children of the Lord's Supper (l. 44) Listen to that song, and learn it! Half my kingdom would I give, As I live, If by such songs you would earn it. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Tales of a Wayside Inn (pt. I, The Musician's Tale, The Saga of King Olaf, pt. V) Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Day is Done (st. 9) And grant that when I face the grisly Thing, My song may trumptet down the gray Perhaps Let me be as a tune-swept fiddlestring That feels the Master Melody--and snaps. - John Gneisenau Neihardt, Let me live out my Years She makes her hand hard with labour, and her heart soft with pity: and when winter evenings fall early (sitting at her merry wheel), she sings a defiance to the giddy wheel of fortune . . . and fears no manner of ill because she means none. - Sir Thomas Overbury, A Fair and Happy Milkmaid I think, whatever mortals crave, With impotent endeavor, A wreath--a rank--a throne--a grave-- The world goes round forever; I think that life is not too long, And therefore I determine, That many people read a song, Who will not read a sermon. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed, Chant of the Brazen Head Odds life! must one swear to the truth of a song? - Matthew Prior, A Better Answer Men, even when alone, lighten their labors by song, however rude it may be. [Lat., Etiam singulorum fatigatio quamlibet se rudi modulatione solatur.] - Quintilian (Marcus Fabius Quintilianus), De Institutione Oratoria (I, 81) Builders, raise the ceiling high, Raise the dome into the sky, Hear the wedding song! For the happy groom is near, Tall as Mars, and statelier, Hear the wedding song! - Sappho, Fragments, (J.S. Easby Smith's translation) Song forbids victorious deeds to die. - Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, The Artists The lively Shadow-World of Song. - Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, The Artists Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song, That old and antique song we heard last night. Methought it did relieve my passion much, More than light airs and recollected terms Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times. Come, but one verse. - William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, or, What You Will (Orsino, Duke of Illyria at II, iv) Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thoughts. - Percy Bysshe Shelley Displaying page 1 of 2 for this topic: Next >> [1] 2
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