Thomas Hood

And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
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And soon
Their hushing dances languished to a stand,
Like midnight leaves when, as the Zephyrs swoon,
All on their drooping stems they sink unfanned.

For my part getting up seems not so easy
By half as lying.

For my part getting up seems not so easy
By half as lying.

Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that read more

Mother of light! how fairly dost thou go
Over those hoary crests, divinely led!
Art thou that huntress of the silver bow
Fabled of old? Or rather dost thou tread
Those cloudy summits thence to gaze below,
Like the wild chamois from her Alpine snow,
Where hunters never climbed--secure from dread?

All men do not admire and delight in the same objects.

All men do not admire and delight in the same objects.

Add a sprinkling of folly to your long deliberations.

Add a sprinkling of folly to your long deliberations.