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• And rustic life and poverty Grow beautiful beneath his touch.
  -- Thomas Campbell (1777-1844) -- Ode to the Memory of Bu...
• Ye mariners of England, That guard our native sea
  Whose flag has braved, a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!...
• And there is even a happiness That makes the heart afraid.
  -- Thomas Hood (1798-1845) -- Ode to Melancholy...
• Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.
  -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- On the Death of Sherida...
• Tea! thou soft, thou sober sage, and venerable liquid
  hou female tongue-running, smile-smoothing, heart-opening, wink tippling cordial, to whose glorious insipidity I owe the happiest moments of ny life, let me fall prostrate!...
• Happy the man whose wish and care A few paternal acres bound.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- Ode on Solitude...
• Whose undertakings are all devoid of desires and purpose, and whose actions have been burnt by fire-of-knowledge, him the wise call a sage.
  -- Gita, Chapter 4, Verse 19....
• Eyes of unholy blue. -- Thomas Moore (1779-1852) -- By that Lake whose gloomy Shore
• While Memory watches o'er the sad review Of joys that faded like the morning dew.
  -- Thomas Campbell (1777-1844) -- Pleasures of Hope, Part ii, Line 45...