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. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Man to the last is but a froward child; So eager for the future, come what may, And to the present so insensible. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
It doesn't much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find next morning that it was someone else. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, Our thoughts are link'd by many a hidden chain; Awake but one, and lo, what myriads… — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Go! you may call it madness, folly; You shall not chase my gloom away! There 's such a charm in melancholy I would not… — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Women have the understanding of the heart, which is better than that of the head. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry, Whence this excess of joy? What has… — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Sweet memory, wafted by the gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail, To view the fairy haunts of long-lost… — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
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… — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
Every day a little life, a blank to be inscribed with gentle thoughts. — Samuel Rogers Copy Share Image
