Mossy Quotes
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Souls of Poets dead and gone What Elysium have
ye known, Happy field or
mossy cavern, Choicer than the
Mermaid Tavern?
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More Mossy Quotes
And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.
john milton— c.1631 Il Penseroso, l.167-74.
She dwelt among the untrodden ways Beside the springs of Dove, A maid whom there were none to praise And very few to love: Aviolet bya mossy stone Half hidden from the eye! Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky. She lived unknown, and few could know When Lucy ceased to be; But she is in her grave, and, oh, The difference to me!
william wordsworth— 1799 'She dwelt among the untrodden ways', complete poem (published1800).
Where art thou, beam of light? Hunters, from the mossy rock, saw ye the blue-eyed fair?
james macpherson— Temora, Bk. 6, p. 353.
A violet by a mossy stone Half hidden from the eye; Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
william wordsworth— She Dwelt Among the Untrodden Ways, st. ? (1799).
The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom; And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb.
— The last Leaf; reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).
Souls of poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern?
john keats— John Keats, Mermaid Tavern.
How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it, As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips! Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, The brightest that beauty or revelry sips.
samuel woodworth— Samuel Woodworth, The Old Oaken Bucket.
Under various names, I have praised only you, rivers! You are milk and honey and love and death and dance. From a spring in hidden grottoes, seeping from mossy rocks, Where a goddess pours live water from a pitcher, At clear streams in the meadow, where rills murmur underground, Your race and my race begin, and amazement, and quick passage.
czesław miłosz— "Rivers" (1980), trans. Renata Gorczynski and Robert Hass
