George Crabbe

Some hearts are hidden, some have not a heart.

Some hearts are hidden, some have not a heart.

All green was vanished save of pine and yew,
That still displayed their melancholy hue;
Save the read more

All green was vanished save of pine and yew,
That still displayed their melancholy hue;
Save the green holly with its berries red,
And the green moss that o'er the gravel spread.

Anger makes us strong, Blind and impatient, And it leads us wrong; The strength is quickly lost; We feel the read more

Anger makes us strong, Blind and impatient, And it leads us wrong; The strength is quickly lost; We feel the error long.

Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
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Feel you the barren flattery of a rhyme?
Can poets soothe you, when you pine for bread,
By winding myrtle round your ruin'd shed?

But monument themselves memorials need.

But monument themselves memorials need.