Samuel Rogers Quotes (1763-1855)

“At length the day departed, and the moon Rose like another sun, illumining Waters and woods and cloud-capt promontories, Glades for a hermit’s cell, a lady’s bower, Scenes of Elysium, such as Night alone Reveals below, nor often,—scenes that fled As at the waving of a wizard’s wand, And left behind them, as their parting gift, A thousand nameless odours. All was still; And now the nightingale her song poured forth In such a torrent of heartfelt delight, So fast it flowed, her tongue so voluble, As if she thought her hearers would be gone Ere half was told. ’Twas where in the northwest, Still unassailed and unassailable, Thy pharos, Genoa, first displayed itself, Burning in stillness on its craggy seat; That guiding star so oft the only one, When those now glowing in the azure vault Are dark and silent. ’Twas where o’er the sea (For we were now within a cable’s length) Delicious gardens hung; green galleries, And marble terraces in many a flight, And fairy arches flung from cliff to cliff, Wildering, enchanting; and, above them all, A palace, such as somewhere in the East, In Zenastan or Araby the blest, Among its golden groves and fruits of gold, And fountains scattering rainbows in the sky, Rose, when Aladdin rubbed the wondrous lamp; Such, if not fairer; and, when we shot by, A scene of revelry, in long array, As with the radiance of the setting sun, The windows blazing. But we now approached A city far-renowned; and wonder ceased.”

“For who, alas! has lived, Nor in the watches of the night recalled Words he has wished unsaid and deeds undone.”

“Lo, steel-clad War his gorgeous standard rears ! The red-cross squadrons madly rage, And mow thro' infancy and age...”

“Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves—not dead, but gone before, He gathers round him.”

“Oh! she was good as she was fair. None—none on earth above her! As pure in thought as angels are, To know her was to love her.”

“Oh! she was good as she was fair. None—none on earth above her! As pure in thought as angels are, To know her was to love her.”

“Oh, if you knew the pensive pleasure That fills my bosom when I sigh, You would not rob me of a treasure Monarchs are too poor to buy.”

“Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive's hum shall soothe my car; A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near.”

“Go—you may call it madness, folly, You shall not chase my gloom away. There's such a charm in melancholy, I would not, if I could, be gay!”

“Sweet drop of pure and pearly light; In thee the rays of Virtue shine; More calmly clear, more mildly bright, Than any gem that gilds the mine.”

“And the Sabbath bell, That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy.”

“That very law which moulds a tear, And bids it trickle from its source, That law preserves the earth a sphere, And guides the planets in their course.”