Then, rising with Aurora's light, The Muse invoked, sit down to write; Blot out, correct, insert, refine, Enlarge, diminish, interline. — Jonathan Swift Copy Share Image
Morning work! By the blushes of Aurora and the music of Memnon, what should be man's morning work in this world? — Henry David Thoreau Copy Share Image
Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn. — Alexander Pope Copy Share Image
Aurora hail, and all the thousand dies, Which deck thy progress through the vaulted skies: The morn awakes, and wide extends her… — Phillis Wheatley Copy Share Image
“His chin rested on top of my head as he stroked my hair. "It's alright," he murmured. "I'll keep you safe." "She… — A&E Kirk Copy Share Image
At last, the golden orientall gate Of greatest heaven gan to open fayre, And Phoebus, fresh as brydegrome to his mate, Came… — Edmund Spenser Copy Share Image
