Others

The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.

The cistern contains: the fountain overflows.

The road of excess leads to the palace of wisdom.

Does the Eagle know what is in the pit? Or wilt thou go ask the Mole? Can Wisdom be put in a silver rod? Or Love in a golden bowl?

You write with ease to show your breeding, But easy writing’s curst hard reading.

Create, artist! Do not talk!

Create, artist! Do not talk!

Dear friend, all theory is gray, And green the golden tree of life.

Who wants to understand the poem Must go to the land of poetry; Who wishes to understand the poet Must go to the poet’s land.

Who wants to understand the poem Must go to the land of poetry; Who wishes to understand the poet Must go to the poet’s land.

Knowst thou the land where the lemon trees bloom, 4 Where the gold orange glows in the deep thicket’s gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heaven blows, And the groves are of laurel and myrtle and rose?

I sing as the bird sings That lives in the boughs. 2

I sing as the bird sings That lives in the boughs. 2

Knowledge is proud that he has learn’d so much; Wisdom is humble that he knows no more.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds; And as the mind is pitch’d the ear is pleas’d With melting airs or martial, brisk, or grave: Some chord in unison with what we hear Is touch’d within us, and the heart replies.

May give a useful lesson to the head, And Learning wiser grow without his books.

On the stage he was natural, simple, affecting; ’Twas only that when he was off he was acting.

To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

To me more dear, congenial to my heart, One native charm, than all the gloss of art.

Her modest looks the cottage might adorn, Sweet as the primrose peeps beneath the thorn.

Truth from his lips prevail’d with double sway, And fools, who came to scoff, remain’d to pray.

Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain.

For I bless God in the libraries of the learned and for all the booksellers in the world.

The meanest floweret of the vale, The simplest note that swells the gale, The common sun, the air, the skies, To him are opening paradise.