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Fireside happiness, to hours of ease Blest with that charm, the certainty to please.
Samuel Rogers
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Samuel Rogers
Age: 92 †
Born: 1763
Born: July 30
Died: 1855
Died: December 18
Banker
Poet
Writer
Author of an Ode to superstition
S Rogers
Saml Rogers
Charm
Certainty
Ease
Please
Hours
Happiness
Fireside
Blest
More quotes by Samuel Rogers
By many a temple half as old as Time.
Samuel Rogers
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 rise! Each stamps its image as the other flies!
Samuel Rogers
I lived to write, and wrote to live.
Samuel Rogers
When a new book is published, read an old one.
Samuel Rogers
Every day a little life, a blank to be inscribed with gentle thoughts.
Samuel Rogers
A guardian angel o'er his life presiding, Doubling his pleasures, and his cares dividing.
Samuel Rogers
Mine be a cot beside the hill A bee-hive's hum shall soothe my ear A willowy brook, that turns a mill, With many a fall shall linger near.
Samuel Rogers
Sweet Memory! wafted by thy gentle gale, Oft up the stream of Time I turn my sail.
Samuel Rogers
It doesn't much signify whom one marries, for one is sure to find next morning that it was someone else.
Samuel Rogers
Women have the understanding of the heart, which is better than that of the head.
Samuel Rogers
To vanish in the chinks that Time has made.
Samuel Rogers
Long on the wave reflected lustres of play.
Samuel Rogers
Gentle to others, to himself severe.
Samuel Rogers
Example is a motive of very prevailing force on the actions of men.
Samuel Rogers
Twilight's soft dews steal o'er the village-green, With magic tints to harmonize the scene. Stilled is the hum that through the hamlet broke When round the ruins of their ancient oak The peasants flocked to hear the minstrel play, And games and carols closed the busy day.
Samuel Rogers
Then never less alone than when alone.
Samuel Rogers
Think nothing done while aught remains to do.
Samuel Rogers
A man who attempts to read all the new productions must do as the flea does,--skip.
Samuel Rogers
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 A thousand melodies unheard before!
Samuel Rogers
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