Deemest thou labor
Only is earnest?
Grave is all beauty,
Solemn is joy.
The land of faery,
Where nobody gets old and godly and grave,
Where nobody gets old and crafty and wise,
Where nobody gets old and bitter of tongue.
I would mould a world of fire and dew
With no one bitter, grave, or over wise,
And nothing marred or old to do you wrong.
She sat with hands as if to bless,
And looked with grave ethereal eyes;
Ensouled by ancient Quietness,
A gentle priestess of the Wise.
Not she with trait'rous kiss her Saviour stung,
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave,
Last at his cross and earliest at his grave.
In comparing various authors with one another, I have discovered that some of the gravest and latest writers have transcribed, word for word, from former works, without making acknowledgment.
An old doting fool, with one foot already in the grave.
Sweet grave aspect.
I shall be as secret as the grave.
Happy who in his verse can gently steer
From grave to light, from pleasant to severe.
Bring down my gray hairs with sorrow to the grave.
Thou shalt come to thy grave in a full age, like as a shock of corn cometh in in his season.
Love is strong as death; jealousy is cruel as the grave.
O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?
Untimely grave.
What we made out of light the light would not have. So we hollowed out a grave where light has forever set
Oh, you are too young to talk of the smell of graves
Was not the law a raw head and bloody bones haunting the living? A man could oft, through the law's mediacy, rule stronger from the grave than in life
The graveyards are full of indispensable men.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
Wisdom ceases to be wisdom when it becomes too proud to weep, too grave to laugh, and too selfful to seek other than itself.
The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.
Time engraves our faces with all the tears we have not shed.
Man's life does not commence in the womb and never ends in the grave.
I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved; the realm of silence is large enough beyond the grave.