He who binds to himself a joyDoes the wingèd life destroy;But he who kisses the joy as it fliesLives in eternity's sunrise.
The bow is bent, the arrow flies, The wingéd shaft of fate.Ira Aldridge, On William Tell, Stanza 12.
Tell me, ye wingèd winds That round my pathway roar, Know ye not some spot Where mortals weep no more?charles mackay
But at my back I always hear Time's wingèd chariot hurrying near.Andrew Marvell
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