A Quote by Charles Lamb

Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade. — © Charles Lamb
Whose wit in the combat, as gentle as bright, Ne'er carried a heart-stain away on its blade.
True Wit is Nature to advantage dress'd What oft was thought, but ne'er so well express'd; Something whose truth convinced at sight we find, That gives us back the image of our mind. As shades more sweetly recommend the light, So modest plainness sets off sprightly wit.
But there are wanderers o'er Eternity Whose bark drives on and on, and anchor'd ne'er shall be.
Such night in England ne'er had been, nor ne'er again shall be.
Alas! the praise given to the ear Ne'er was nor ne'er can be sincere.
I ne'er could any lustre see In eyes that would not look on me; I ne'er saw nectar on a lip But where my own did hope to sip.
True wit is nature to advantage dressed; What oft was thought, but ne'er so well expressed.
Fro and to in my dreams to you To the haunting tune of the harp For the price I paid when you died that day I paid that day with my heart Fro and to in my dreams to you With the breaking of my heart Ne'er more again will I sing this song Ne'er more will I hear the harp.
What good being object of charity? Give away, ne'er turn to ask in return, Should there be the wealth treasured in thy heart.
Who ne'er his bread in sorrow ate, Who ne'er the mournful midnight hours Weeping upon his bed has sate, He knows you not, ye Heavenly Powers.
Wouldst thou wisely, and with pleasure, Pass the days of life's short measure, From the slow one counsel take, But a tool of him ne'er make; Ne'er as friend the swift one know, Nor the constant one as foe.
Thus unlamented pass the proud away, The gaze of fools and pageant of a day; So perish all, whose breast ne'er learn'd to glow For others' good, or melt at others' woe.
Ne'er to meet, or ne'er to part, is peace.
I ne'er was struck before that hour with love so sudden and so sweet. Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower and stole my heart away complete
Tis strange the miser should his cares employTo gain those riches he can ne'er enjoy;Is it less strange the prodigal should wasteHis wealth to purchase what he ne'er can taste?
Faint heart ne'er won fair lady.
Had I a heart for falsehood framed, I ne'er could injure you.
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