Roman playwright of the Old Latin period
No good water comes from a muddy spring. No sweet fruit comes from a bitter seed.josé rizal
With eyes up-raised, as one inspired, Pale Melancholy sate retired, And from her wild sequestered seat, In notes by distance made more sweet, Poured thro' the mellow horn her pensive soul.william collins
"To regret the exchange of earthly pleasures for the joys of heaven, is as if the grovelling caterpillar should lament that it must one day quit the nibbled leaf to soar aloft and flutter through the air, roving at will from flower to flower, sipping sweet honey from their cups, or basking in their sunny petals."anne brontë
A thing of beauty is a joy forever. Its loveliness increases, it will never pass into nothingness.john keats
sweet bird! thy bower is ever green, Thy sky is ever clear; Thou hast no sorrow in thy song, No winter in thy year.john logan
Sweetest melodies.Are those that are by distance made more sweet.william wordsworth
All these woes shall serve For sweet discourses in our time to come.william shakespeare
Hath not old custom made this life more sweet Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods More free from peril than the envious court?william shakespeare
The rose is fragrant, but it fades in time: The violet sweet, but quickly past the prime White lilies hang their heads, and soon decay, And white snow in minutes melts away.john dryden
Along the river's summer walk, The withered tufts of asters nod; And trembles on its arid stalk The hoar plume of the golden-rod. And on a ground of sombre fir, And azure-studded juniper, The silver birch its buds of purple shows, And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose!
sweet tears! the awful language, eloquent Of infinite affection; far too big For words.robert pollok
sweet bird, that sing'st away the early hours, Of winter's past or coming void of care, Well pleaséd with delights which present are, Fair seasons, budding sprays, sweet-smelling flowers.
sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright, The bridal of the earth and sky.
She is a winsome wee thing, She is a handsome wee thing, She is a bonny wee thing, This sweet wee wife o' mine.Robert Burns
And over the pond are sailing Two swans all white as snow; sweet voices mysteriously wailing Pierce through me as onward they go. They sail along, and a ringing sweet melody rises on high; And when the swans begin singing, They presently must die.Heinrich Heine