Not the rich viol, trump, cymbal, nor horn, Guitar, nor cittern, nor the pining flute, Are half so sweet as tender human words. — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
So mightiest powers buy deepest calms are fed, And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be! — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
Most writers steal a good thing when they can, and when 'Tis safely got 'Tis worth the winning. The worst of 't is we… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
Where are Shakespeare's imagination, Bacon's learning, Galileo's dream? Where is the sweet fancy of Sidney, the airy spirit of Fletcher, and Milton's thought severe?… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
I 'm on the sea! I 'm on the sea! I am where I would ever be, With the blue above and the blue… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
Up and down! Up and down! From the base of the wave to the billow's crown; And amidst the flashing and feathery foam The… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
Gamaun is a dainty steed, Strong, black, and of a noble breed, Full of fire, and full of bone, With all his line of… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
Women are so gentle, so affectionate, so true in sorrow, so untired and untiring! but the leaf withers not sooner, and tropic light fades… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
The sea! the sea! the open sea! The blue, the fresh, the ever free! Without a mark, without a bound, It runneth the earth's… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
The sea! The sea! The open sea!, The blue, the fresh, the ever free! — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
In the hollow tree, in the old gray tower, The spectral Owl doth dwell; Dull, hated, despised, in the sunshine hour, But at the… — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
I never was on the dull, tame shore, But I loved the great sea more and more. — Bryan Procter Copy Share Image
