When old age shall this generation waste, Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe Than ours, a friend to man, to whom thou say'st, 'Beauty is truth, truth beauty, - that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? / Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow and leaden eyed despairs
Where's the cheek that doth not fade, / Too much gazed at?
Where's the face / One would meet in every place? / Where's the voice, however soft, / One would hear so very oft?
Who are these coming to the sacrifice? To what green altar, O mysterious priest, Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skiews, And all her silken flanks with garlands dressed? What little town by river or sea shore, Or mountain-built with peaceful c
Who would wish to be among the commonplace crowd of the little famous - who are each individually lost in a throng made up of themselves?
Why were they proud? again we ask aloud, / Why in the name of Glory were they proud?
Wide sea, that one continuous murmur breeds along the pebbled shore of memory!
You are always new, The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest.
You might curb your magnanimity, and be more of an artist, and load every rift of your subject with ore.
This website focuses on proverbs in the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages, and some parts including the links below have not been translated to English. They are mainly FAQs, various information and webpages for improving the collection.
This website focuses on proverbs in the Swedish, Danish and Norwegian languages, and some parts including the links below have not been translated to English. They are mainly FAQs, various information and webpages for improving the collection.