Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I'm saddest when I sing.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
The rose that all are praising Is not the rose for me.
She wore a wreath of roses, The night that first we met.
We met, 'twas in a crowd, and I thought he would shun me.
Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be.
Why don't the men propose, Mamma? Why don't the men propose?
Oh, pilot! 'tis a fearful night, There's danger on the deep.
Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, Long, long ago, long, long ago.
I'd be a butterfly; living a rover, Dying when fair things are fading away.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Prolonged absence makes the heart forget.
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.
Surely 't is better, when summer is over To die when all fair things are fading away.
Those that have wealth must be watchful and wary, Power, alas! naught but misery brings!
Oh, I have roamed o'er many lands, And many friends I've met; Not one fair scene or kindly smile Can this fond heart forget.
Oh! where do fairies hide their heads, When snow lies on the hills, When frost has spoiled their mossy beds, And crystallized their rills?
Where's the hope that can abate The grief of hearts thus desolate That can Youth's keenest pangs assuage, And mitigate the gloom of Age? Religion bids the tempest cease, And, leads her to a port of peace; And on, the lonely pilot steers Through the lapse of future years.
O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing The same that were taught me ten seasons ago; The schoolmaster over the land is advancing, Then why is the master of dancing so slow? It is such a bore to be always caught tripping In dull uniformity year after year; Invent something new, and you'll set me a skipping: I want a new figure to dance with my Dear!
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day; Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth, And make use of your wings while you may. . . . . But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite, They at last found it dangerous play; Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth, Only dazzle to lead us astray.