Quote #17
By fairy hands their knell is rung, By forms unseen their dirge is sung.
More from William Collins
- How sleep the brave, who sink to rest, By all their country's wishes blest!
- In yonder Grave a Druid lies Where slowly winds the Stealing Wave! The Year's best Sweets shall duteous rise To deck its Poet's sylvan Grav…
- O Music! sphere-descended maid, Friend of Pleasure, Wisdom's aid!
- But thou, lorn stream, whose sullen tide No sedge-crown'd sister now attend, Now waft me from the green hill's side Whose cold turf hides t…
- Love of peace, and lonely musing, In hollow murmurs died away.
- He had employed his mind chiefly on works of fiction, and subjects of fancy; and, by indulging some peculiar habits of thought, was eminent…
- With eyes up-raised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy sate retired, And from her wild sequestered seat, In notes by distance made more swee…
- 'T was sad by fits, by starts 't was wild.