Quotes
Quotes about Heart
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view.
From every place below the skies
The grateful song, the fervent prayer,--
The incense of the heart, --may rise
To heaven, and find acceptance there.
When we two parted
In silence and tears,
Half broken-hearted,
To sever for years.
So the struck eagle, stretch'd upon the plain,
No more through rolling clouds to soar again,
View'd his own feather on the fatal dart,
And wing'd the shaft that quiver'd in his heart.
Maid of Athens, ere we part,
Give, oh give me back my heart!
Such partings break the heart they fondly hope to heal.
Ada! sole daughter of my house and heart.
There was a sound of revelry by night,
And Belgium's capital had gather'd then
Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.
And thus the heart will break, yet brokenly live on.
Egeria! sweet creation of some heart
Which found no mortal resting-place so fair
As thine ideal breast.
Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing cheek, his sinking heart, confess
The might, the majesty of loveliness?
The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the music breathing from her face,
The heart whose softness harmonized the whole,--
And oh, that eye was in itself a soul!
Oh who can tell, save he whose heart hath tried.
Here's a sigh to those who love me,
And a smile to those who hate;
And whatever sky's above me,
Here's a heart for every fate.
The heart ran o'er
With silent worship of the great of old!
The dead but sceptred sovereigns, who still rule
Our spirits from their urns.
His heart was one of those which most enamour us,--
Wax to receive, and marble to retain.
Heart on her lips, and soul within her eyes,
Soft as her clime, and sunny as her skies.
The Devil hath not, in all his quiver's choice,
An arrow for the heart like a sweet voice.
The heart bowed down by weight of woe
To weakest hope will cling.
Come to the bridal chamber, Death!
Come to the mother's, when she feels
For the first time her first-born's breath!
Come when the blessed seals
That close the pestilence are broke,
And crowded cities wail its stroke!
Come in consumption's ghastly form,
The earthquake shock, the ocean storm!
Come when the heart beats high and warm,
With banquet song, and dance, and wine!
And thou art terrible!--the tear,
The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier,
And all we know or dream or fear
Of agony are thine.
There is an evening twilight of the heart,
When its wild passion-waves are lulled to rest.
Those who inflict must suffer, for they see
The work of their own hearts, and this must be
Our chastisement or recompense.
Why should we faint and fear to live alone,
Since all alone, so Heaven has willed, we die?
Nor even the tenderest heart, and next our own,
Knows half the reasons why we smile and sigh.
When Freedom from her mountain-height
Unfurled her standard to the air,
She tore the azure robe of night,
And set the stars of glory there.
She mingled with its gorgeous dyes
The milky baldric of the skies,
And striped its pure, celestial white
With streakings of the morning light.
Flag of the free heart's hope and home!
By angel hands to valour given!
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome,
And all thy hues were born in heaven.
Forever float that standard sheet!
Where breathes the foe but falls before us,
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet,
And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us?
The self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when sick for home
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that ofttimes hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.
