Quotes by Robert Williams Buchanan

And the voice of men shall call, He is fallen like us all, Though the weapon of the Lord was in his hand: And thine epitaph shall be - He was wretched ev'n as we; And thy tomb may be unhonoured in the land.

Bright Eyes, Light Eyes! Daughter of a Fay! I had not been a married wife a twelvemonth and a day, I had not nursed my little one a month upon my knee, When down among the blue bell banks rose elfins three times three: hey griped me by the raven hair, I could not cry for fear, They put a hempen rope around my waist and dragged me here; They made me sit and give thee suck as mortal mothers can, Bright Eyes, Light Eyes! strange and weak and wan!

I sing of the stain'd outcast at Love's feet - Love with his wild eyes on the evening light. I sing of sad lives trampled down like wheat Under the heel of Lust, in Love's despite; I glean behind those wretched shapes ye see In the cold harvest-fields of Infamy.

One fine day, Says Mister Mucklewraith to me, says he. So! you're a poet in your house, and smiled. A Poet? God forbid, I cried; and then It all came out: how Andrew slyly sent Verse to the paper; how they printed it In Poet's Corner.

Sad and sweet and wise Here a child reposes; Dust is on his eyes, Quietly he lies - Satan, strew Roses.

So bent on self-sanctifying,- That she never thought of trying To save her poor husband as well.

The earth is rocking, the skies are riven - Jove in a passion, in god-like fashion, Is breaking the crystal urns of heaven.