Quote #44
The poor old Past, The Future's slave, She drudged through pain and crime To bring about the blissful Prime, Then-perished. There's a grave!
More from Herman Melville
- With shouts the torrents down the gorges go, And storms are formed behind the storm we feel: The hemlock shakes in the rafter, the oak in t…
- At the height of their madness The night winds pause, Recollecting themselves; But no lull in these wars.
- Youth is the time when hearts are large, And stirring wars Appeal to the spirit which appeals in turn To the blade it draws.
- If some books are deemed most baneful and their sale forbid, how, then, with deadlier facts, not dreams of doting men? Those whom books wil…
- What troops Of generous boys in happiness thus bred- Saturnians through life's Tempe led, Went from the North and came from the South, With…
- And here Bartleby makes his home, sole spectator of a solitude which he has seen all populous- a sort of innocent and transformed Marius br…
- But are sailors, frequenters of fiddlers' greens, without vices? No; but less often than with landsmen do their vices, so called, partake o…
- Ah, happiness courts the light, so we deem the world is gay, but misery hides aloof, so we deem that misery there is none.