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.
Samuel Rogers (1763 - 1855)
Contributed by: Zaady
Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.
Source: The Pleasures of Memory. Part ii. i.
We love music for the buried hopes, the garnered memories, the tender feelings it can summon at a touch.
Mine be a cot beside the hill; A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear; A willowy brook that turns a mill, With many a fall, shall linger near.
Source: A Wish.
The soul of music slumbers in the shell Till waked and kindled by the master's spell; And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour A thousand melodies unheard before!
Source: Human Life.
To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.
Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it: He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it.
Those that he loved so long and sees no more, Loved and still loves,-not dead, but gone before,- He gathers round him.
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