“ The soul of music slumbers in the shell, Till wak'd and kindled by the master's spell, And feeling hearts touch them but lightly — pour A thousand melodies unheard before! ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.2K
“ And the Sabbath bell, That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 412
“ I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? And from within a thrilling voice replies, Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts Rush on my mind, a thousand images; And I spring up as girt to run a race! ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 2K
“ I came to the place of my birth and cried: "The friends of my youth, where are they?" — and an echo answered, "Where are they? ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 3K
“ I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? And from within a thrilling voice replies, Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts Rush on my mind, a thousand images; And I spring up as girt to run a race! ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 2.9K
“ And the Sabbath bell, That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 551
“ The Good are better made by Ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.1K
“ The Good are better made by Ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 2.9K
“ The Good are better made by Ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.3K
“ And the Sabbath bell, That over wood and wild and mountain dell Wanders so far, chasing all thoughts unholy With sounds most musical, most melancholy. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 20
“ I came to the place of my birth and cried: "The friends of my youth, where are they?" — and an echo answered, "Where are they? ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.5K
“ I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me? And from within a thrilling voice replies, Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts Rush on my mind, a thousand images; And I spring up as girt to run a race! ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.6K
“ The Good are better made by Ill, As odours crushed are sweeter still. ”
- Samuel Rogers- Copy
- 1.4K
- 1
- 2