One I have loved, uneluding, dearly possessed, Two I have wooed, by greater praise be they blessed – Three, yea, and four, with fortune lavish of gold, Five maidens I've won their white flesh fair to behold, And six more bright than the sun on my city's strong walls With never a treacherous rede to blemish delight; Seven by heaven! though hardly won was the fight – Yea eight of whom I have sung: but to bridle the tongue Lest heedless a careless word slip – the teeth they are strong!
Hywel ab Owain GwyneddRelated topics
blemish bridle bright delight eight fair fight five flesh fortune four gold heaven lavish lest praise rede seven sing six slip sun teeth three tongue white won word yea maidensRelated quotes
Is aught so fair
In all the dewy landscapes of the spring,
In the bright eye of Hesper or the morn,
In nature's fairest forms, is aught so fair
As virtuous friendship? as the candid blush
Of him who strives with fortune to be just?
The graceful tear that streams for others' woes?
Or the mild majesty of private life,
Where peace with ever blooming olive crowns
The gate; where Honour's liberal hands effuse
Unenvied treasures, and the snowy wings
Of Innocence and Love protect the scene?
Mark Akenside
On April 3, 1956, according to news reports, a Mrs. Julia Chase of Hagerstown, Maryland, while on a tour of the White House, slipped away from her tour group and vanished into the heart of the building. For four and a half hours, Mrs. Chase, who was described later as "dishevelled, vague and not quite lucid,” wandered through the White House, setting small fires-five in all. That's how tight security was in those days: a not-quite-lucid woman was able to roam unnoticed through the executive mansion for more than half a working day.
Bill Bryson
I stumbled, slipped... and all was gone
That I had gained. Once more I lay
Before the long bright Hell of ice.
And still the light was far away.
There was red mist before my eyes
Or I could tell you how I went
Across the swaying firmament,
A glittering torture of cold stars,
And how I fought in Titan wars...
And died... and lived again upon
The rack... and how the horses strain
When their red task is nearly done. . .
I only know that there was Pain,
Infinite and eternal Pain.
And that I fell - and rose again.
Stephen Vincent Benét
There is no Eden. There never was. What was that Eden of the wonderful mythic past? Is it the time when infant mortality was 80%, when four children in five died of disease before the age of five? When one woman in six died in childbirth? When the average lifespan was 40, as it was in America a century ago? When plagues swept across the planet, killing millions in a stroke. Was it when millions starved to death? Is that when it was Eden?
Michael Crichton
It was a yellow voice, a high, shrill treble in the nursery
White always and high, I remember it so,
White cupboard, off-white table, mugs, dolls' faces
And I was four or five. The garden could have been
Miles away. We were taken down to the green
Asparagus beds, the cut lawn, and the smell of it
Comes each summer after rain when white returns. Our bird,
A canary called Peter, sang behind bars. The black and white cat
Curled and snoozed by the fire and danger was far away.
Elizabeth Jennings
