My people too were scared with eerie sounds, A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls, A noise of falling weights that never fell, Weird whispers, bells that rang without a hand, Door-handles turn'd when none was at the door, And bolted doors that open'd of themselves; And one betwixt the dark and light had seen Her, bending by the cradle of her babe.
In buskined measures move Pale Grief and pleasing Pain, With Horror, tyrant of the throbbing breast.thomas gray
Thou our throbbing flesh hast worn;Thou our mortal griefs hast borne;Thou hast shed the human tear;Jesus, Son of Mary, hear!henry hart milman
Nay, if there's room for poets in the world A little overgrown, (I think there is) Their sole work is to represent the age, Their age, not Charlemagne's, this live, throbbing age, That brawls, cheats, maddens, calculates, aspires, And spends more passion, more heroic heat, Betwixt the mirrors of its drawing-rooms, Than Roland with his knights, at Roncesvalles.
The fact that we have not yet found the slightest evidence for life much less intelligence beyond this Earth does not surprise or disappoint me in the least. Our technology must still be laughably primitive, we may be like jungle savages listening for the throbbing of tom-toms while the ether around them carries more words per second than they could utter in a lifetime.arthur c. clarke
My opinion of my whole experience varies from time to time. In broad daylight, and at most seasons I am apt to think the greater part of it a mere dream; but sometimes in the autumn, about two in the morning when winds and animals howl dismally, there comes from inconceivable depths below a damnable suggestions of rhythmical throbbing ... and I feel that the transition of Juan Romero was a terrible one indeed.h. p. lovecraft
Deep in my heart subsides the infrequent word, And there dies slowly throbbing like a wounded bird.Francis Thompson
Come, now again, thy woes impart, Tell all thy sorrows, all thy sin; We cannot heal the throbbing heart Till we discern the wounds within.George Crabbe
Is it one wid this you'd be, Yank — black smoke from the funnels smudging the sea, smudging the decks — the bloody engines pounding and throbbing and shaking — wid divil a sight of sun or a breath of clean air — choking our lungs wid coal dust — breaking our backs and hearts in the hell of the stokehole — feeding the bloody furnace — feeding our lives along wid the coal, I'm thinking — caged in by steel from a sight of the sky like bloody apes in the Zoo!Eugene O'Neill
The barren island dreams in flowers, while blow The south winds, drawing haze o'er sea and land; Yet the great heart of ocean, throbbing slow, Makes the frail blossoms vibrate where they stand; And hints of heavier pulses soon to shake Its mighty breast when summer is no more, And devastating waves sweep on and break, And clasp with girdle white the iron shore.celia thaxter