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THE MOST EXTENSIVE COLLECTION OF QUOTATIONS ON THE INTERNET |
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O, there is a charm Which morning has, that gives the brow of age A smack of earth, and makes the lip of youth Shed perfume exquisite. Expect it not, Ye who till noon upon a down bed lie, Indulging feverous sleep. - [Early Rising] What is death To him who meets it with an upright heart? A quiet haven, where his shatter'd bark Harbours secure, till the rough storm is past, Perhaps a passage overhung with clouds, But at its entrance, a few leagues beyond Opening to kinder skies and milder suns, And seas pacific as the soul that seeks them. - [Death] Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed. - The Village Curate (l. 276) [Bed : Larks]
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