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He scorn'd his own, who felt another's woe.

Thomas Campbell

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Thomas Campbell
Age: 66 †
Born: 1777
Born: July 27
Died: 1844
Died: June 15
Journalist
Musicologist
Poet
Writer
Glasgow
Scotland
Philanthropy
Scorn
Gratitude
Felt
Another
Woe

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The prophet's mantle, ere his flight began, Dropt on the world--a sacred gift to man.
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The only thing that is fundamental (real) is consciousness itself all else is virtual- i.e., a result of an exchange of information within consciousness.
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A stoic of the woods,--a man without a tear.
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Never wedding, ever wooing, Still a lovelorn heart pursuing, Read you not the wrong you're doing In my cheek's pale hue? All my life with sorrow strewing Wed or cease to woo.
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What though my winged hours of bliss have been, Like angel visits, few and far between.
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The popularity of that baby-faced boy, who possessed not even the elements of a good actor, was a hallucination in the public mind, and a disgrace to our theatrical history.
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Our land, the first garden of liberty's tree-- It has been, and shall be, the land of the free.
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Ye mariners of England! That guard our native seas Whose flag has braved a thousand years, The battle and the breeze!
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I'll meet the raging of the skies, but not an angry father.
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On the green banks of Shannon, when Sheelah was nigh, No blithe Irish lad was so happy as I, No harp like my own could so cheerily play, And wherever I went was my poor dog Tray.
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Better be courted and jilted Than never be courted at all.
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Fundamental assumptions in general and scientific assumptions in particular are so hard to overturn because they are based on belief. Beliefs are so hard to overcome because they are irrational and therefore do not yield to logical argument.
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The meteor flag of England Shall yet terrific burn, Till danger's troubled night depart, And the star of peace return.
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Where the Scriptures speak, we speak where the Scriptures are silent, we are silent.
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Love! the surviving gift of Heaven, The choicest sweet of Paradise, In life's else bitter cup distilled.
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O star-eyed Science, hast thou wander'd there, To waft us home the message of despair?
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The smaller your reality, the more convinced you are that you know everything.
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An original something, dear maid, you would wish me to write but how shall I begin? For I'm sure I have not original in me, Excepting Original Sin.
Thomas Campbell
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One moment may with bliss repay Unnumbered hours of pain.
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Who hail thee, Man! the pilgrim of the day, spouse of the worm, and brother of the clay.
Thomas Campbell