“To win, beloved Caroline from thee,
One thought, in years when we shall sever'd be--
--Sever'd, perchance, by those deep waves, which pour
Their billowy murmurs round our native shore,--
For this, I wander'd round the Bow'rs of Song,
A weary, and rejected suppliant long,
And of the Muses crav'd in humblest tone
From their rich wreaths, one simple bud alone:
They did but fling their wildest weeds at me,
And thus I twin'd them into verse for thee!”

— Eliza Acton

To Caroline (1826)

Adopted from Wikiquote. Last update June 3, 2021. History

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Eliza Acton 3

Poet, cook 1799–1859

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“Let me not seek out of Thee what I can find only in Thee, O Lord, peace and rest and joy and bliss, which abide only in Thine abiding joy. Lift up my soul above the weary round of harassing thoughts to Thy eternal Presence. Lift up my soul to the pure, bright, serene, radiant atmosphere of Thy Presence, that there I may breathe freely, there repose in Thy love, there be at rest from myself, and from all things that weary me; and thence return, arrayed with Thy peace, to do and bear what shall please Thee. Amen.”

Edward Bouverie Pusey (1800–1882) British saint

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“Glorious Bard! to whom belong
Wreaths not often claimed by song,
Those hung round the warrior's shield—
Laurels from the blood-red field.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

(8th February 1823) Medallion Wafers: Head of Tyrtëus
The London Literary Gazette, 1823

“When will my soul forget the look
With which one single stem she took
From out the wreath?—a tulip flower;
But, touch'd as by some withering power,
The painted leaves were drooping round
The rich but burning heart they bound.”

Letitia Elizabeth Landon (1802–1838) English poet and novelist

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“Far far from gusty waves these children's faces.
Like rootless weeds the torn hair round their paleness.”

Stephen Spender (1909–1995) English poet and man of letters

"An Elementary School Classroom In A Slum" in Modern British Poetry (1962) edited by Louis Untermeyer (1962) variant : Like rootless weeds, the hair torn around their pallor.
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“Remember…that if thou marry for beauty, thou bindest thyself all thy life for that which perchance will never last nor please thee one year; and when thou hast it, it will be to thee of no price at all, for the desire dieth when it is attained, and the affection perisheth when it is satisfied.”

Walter Raleigh (1554–1618) English aristocrat, writer, poet, soldier, courtier, spy, and explorer

Source: Instructions to his Son and to Posterity (published 1632), Chapter II

“Why thus longing, thus forever sighing
For the far-off, unattained, and dim,
While the beautiful all round thee lying
Offers up its low, perpetual hymn?”

Harriet Winslow Sewall (1819–1889) American poet

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“Eat thou and drink; to-morrow thou shalt die.
Surely the earth, that's wise being very old,
Needs not our help. Then loose me, love, and hold
Thy sultry hair up from my face; that I
May pour for thee this golden wine, brim-high,
Till round the glass thy fingers glow like gold.
We'll drown all hours: thy song, while hours are toll'd,
Shall leap, as fountains veil the changing sky.”

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“For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet-bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years,
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.”

Edmund Sears (1810–1876) American minister

The Angels' Song ("It Came Upon A Midnight Clear", 1849).

“Awake
Hindus:
Mother! The flowers of our worship have crowned thee! Parsees:
Mother! The flame of our hope shall surround you Mussulmans:
Mother! The sword of our love shall defend thee Christians:
Mother! The song of thy faith shall attend thee All creeds:
Shall not our dauntless devotion avail thee?
Harken! O Queen O! goddess, we hail thee!”

Sarojini Naidu (1879–1949) Indian politician, governor of the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh from 1947 to 1949

Her poem in "The Golden Treasury of Indo-Anglian Poetry, 1828-1965", p=161
Poetry

“Such as may make thee search the coffers round.”

John Milton (1608–1674) English epic poet

At a Vacation Exercise. Line 31, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919)

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