lute quotes
As her lute doth live or die, Led by her passion, so must I: For when of pleasure she doth sing, My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring, But if she doth of sorrow speak, Ev'n from my heart the strings do break.
Who, of men, can tell That flowers would bloom, or that green fruit would swell To melting pulp, that fish would have bright mail, The earth its dower of river, wood, and vale, The meadows runnels, runnels pebble-stones, The seed its harvest, or the lute its tones, Tones ravishment, or ravishment its sweet, If human souls did never kiss and greet?
It is little rift within the lute, That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.
My lute, awake! Perform the last Labour that thou and I shall waste, And end that I have now begun; For when this song is sung and past, My lute, be still, for I have done.
Webster's New World Dictionary of Quotations Copyright © 2010 by Chambers Harrap Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved. Published by Wiley, Hoboken, NJ. Used by arrangement with John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
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