Fireside happiness, to hours of ease
Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
Human Life (1819)
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More from Samuel Rogers
viewThose that he loved so long and sees no more,
Loved and still loves,–not dead, but gone before,
He gathers round him.
Human Life (1819)
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.
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
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.