Philip James Bailey

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.

And these are joys, like beauty, but skin deep.

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.

Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she
Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.
The sun read more

Dewdrops, Nature's tears, which she
Sheds in her own breast for the fair which die.
The sun insists on gladness; but at night,
When he is gone, poor Nature loves to weep.

'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east; 'tis time unfolds read more

'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.

For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.

For as nightingales do upon glow-worms feed,
So poets live upon the living light.