The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow, Gave the lustre of midday to objects below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer.
High up among the branches of a mighty tree she hugged the shrieking infant to her bosom, and soon the instinct that was as dominant in this fierce female as it had been in the breast of his tender and beautiful mother — the instinct of mother love — reached out to the tiny man-child's half-formed understanding, and he became quiet.Then hunger closed the gap between them, and the son of an English lord and an English lady nursed at the breast of Kala, the great ape.Edgar Rice Burroughs
Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, To soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.william congreve
Mightier far Than strength of nerve or sinew, or the sway Of magic potent over sun and star, Is Love, though oft to agony distrest, And though his favorite seat be feeble woman's breast.william wordsworth
They throw in Drummer Hodge, to rest Uncoffined just as found: His landmark is a kopje-crest That breaks the veldt around; And foreign constellations west Each night above his mound. Young Hodge the Drummer never knew Fresh from his Wessex home The meaning of the broad Karoo, The Bush, the dusty loam, And why uprose to nightly view Strange stars amid the gloam. Yet portion of that unknown plain Will Hodge forever be; His homely Northern breast and brain Grow to some Southern tree, And strange-eyed constellations reign His stars eternally.thomas hardy
Would that we two were lying Beneath the churchyard sod, With our limbs at rest in the green earth's breast, And our souls at home with God.Charles Kingsley
Let him be rich and weary, that at least, If goodness lead him not, yet weariness May toss him to My breast.George Herbert
Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail Or knock the breast, no weakness, no contempt, Dispraise, or blame, nothing but well and fair, And what may quiet us in a death so noble.john milton
O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,Missing so much and so much?O fat white woman whom nobody loves,Why do you walk through the fields in gloves,When the grass is soft as the breast of dovesAnd shivering-sweet to the touch?O why do you walk through the fields in gloves,Missing so much and so much?frances cornford
A word in season spokenMay calm the troubled breast.charles jeffreys
We call him a hero who maintains himself, single-handed, against superior numbers. We call him a master-horseman who sits a fiery and vicious steed, guiding him at will. And in like manner, we call him a moral hero who conquers the enemies within his own breast and we admire and revere the soul which can ride its own passions and force them into obedience to the dictates of reason.felix adler
For the sword outwears its sheath, And the soul wears out the breast, And the heart must pause to breathe, And love itself have rest.lord byron
It may be from some moral obliquity in myself, or from some strange disease; but for me, and I should think too for every human being in whose breast a human heart is beating, to know that one single creature is in that dreadful place would make a hell of heaven itself. And they have hearts in heaven, for they love there.james anthony froude
O holy trust! O endless sense of rest! Like the beloved John To lay his head upon the Saviour's breast, And thus to journey on!Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, From the seas and the streams; I bear light shade for the leaves when laid In their noonday dreams. From my wings are shaken the dews that waken The sweet buds every one, When rocked to rest on their mother's breast, As she dances about the sun. I wield the flail of the lashing hail, And whiten the green plains under, And then again I dissolve it in rain, And laugh as I pass in thunder.Percy Bysshe Shelley
I hate inconstancy I loathe, detest, Abhor, condemn, abjure the mortal made Of such quicksilver clay that in his breast No permanent foundation can be laid.lord byron
Know you why the robin's breast Gleameth of a dusky red Like the lustre mid the stars Of the potent planet Mars?
Make my breast Transparent as pure crystal, that the world, Jealous of me, may see the foulest thought My heart holds.
Roses at first were white, 'Till they co'd not agree, Whether my Sappho's breast Or they more white sho'd be.Robert Herrick
Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain.Oliver Goldsmith