Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, – as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!
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More quotes from Barry Cornwall
The sweetest noise on earth, a woman’s tongue; A string which hath no discord.
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All round the room my silent servants wait, My friends in every season, bright and dim.
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So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!
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Even Echo speaks not on these radiant moors.
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I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more.
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There’s not a wind but whispers of thy name; And not a flow’r that grows beneath the moon, But in its hues and fragrance tells a tale Of thee, my love.
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Oh, the summer night, Has a smile of light, And she sits on a sapphire throne.
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Pity speaks to grief More sweetly than a band of instruments.
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Touch us gently, Time! Let us glide adown thy stream, Gently, – as we sometimes glide Through a quiet dream!
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Death is the tyrant of the imagination.
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O human beauty, what a dream art thou, that we should cast our life and hopes away on thee!
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Half the ills we heard within our hearts are ills because we hoard them.
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