Samuel Rogers

Samuel Rogers (30 July 1763 – 18 December 1855) was an English poet.

• Mine be a cot beside the hill;
  A beehive's hum shall soothe my ear;
  A willowy brook that turns a mill,
  With many a fall, shall linger near.
  • A Wish (1834), l. 1-4.

• That very law which moulds a tear
  And bids it trickle from its source,—
  That law preserves the earth a sphere,
  And guides the planets in their course.
  • On a Tear (c. 1813-5), l. 21-4.

• Go! you may call it madness, folly;
  You shall not chase my gloom away!
  There's such a charm in melancholy
  I would not if I could be gay.
  • To ———, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

• To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.
  • Pæstum, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

• Ward has no heart, they say, but I deny it:
  He has a heart, and gets his speeches by it.
  • Epigram, reported in Bartlett's Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. (1919).

• Hence, to the realms of Night, dire Demon, hence!
  Thy chain of adamant can bind
  That little world, the human mind,
  And sink its noblest powers to impotence.
  • I.1 l. 1-4.
• Lo, steel-clad War his gorgeous standard rears !
  The red-cross squadrons madly rage,
  And mow thro' infancy and age
  • III.2. l. 1-3.

• Thou first, best friend that Heav'n assigns below
  To sooth and sweeten all the cares we know.
  • I, l. 85-6.

• Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale,
  Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.
  • II, l. 1-2.

• Oh ! She was good as she was fair,
  None—none on earth above her!
  As pure in thought as angels are:
  To know her was to love her.
  • I, l. 67-70.
• The good are better made by ill,
  As odours crushed are sweeter still.
  • III, l. 16-7.

• A guardian angel o'er his life presiding,
  Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.

• Fireside happiness, to hours of ease
  Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.

• The soul of music slumbers in the shell
  Till waked and kindled by the master's spell;
  And feeling hearts, touch them but rightly, pour
  A thousand melodies unheard before!

• Then, never less alone than when alone.

• Those that he loved so long and sees no more,
  Loved and still loves,—not dead, but gone before,—
  He gathers round him.

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Samuel Rogers

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Samuel Rogers

• Works by Samuel Rogers at Project Gutenberg
• Works by Samuel Rogers at UK RED