Maxioms by Samuel Rogers
I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray
Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry,
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I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray
Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry,
Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me?
And from within a thrilling voice replies,
Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts
Rush on my mind, a thousand images;
And I spring up as girt to run a race!
Nothing is so secure in its position as not to be in danger from
the attack even of the read more
Nothing is so secure in its position as not to be in danger from
the attack even of the weak.
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Stilled is the read more
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green,
With magic tints to harmonize the scene.
Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke
When round the ruins of their ancient oak
The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play,
And games and carols closed the busy day.
I lived to write, and wrote to live
I lived to write, and wrote to live
