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Not like Homer would I write, Not like Dante if I might, Not like Shakespeare at his best, Not like Goethe or the rest, Like myself, however small, Like myself, or not at all.
William Allingham
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William Allingham
Age: 65 †
Born: 1824
Born: March 19
Died: 1889
Died: November 18
Poet
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Write
Goethe
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Dante
Might
Homer
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Shakespeare
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However
Rest
Small
More quotes by William Allingham
The trees are Indian Princes, But soon they'll turn to Ghosts The scanty pears and apples Hang russet on the bough Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late, 'Twill soon be Winter now. Robin, Robin Redbreast, O Robin dear! And what will this poor Robin do? For pinching days are near.
William Allingham
If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one: I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me.
William Allingham
The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.
William Allingham
Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad.
William Allingham
Four ducks on a pond, / A grass-bank beyond, / A blue sky of spring, / White clouds on the wing: / What a little thing / To remember for years - / To remember with tears!.
William Allingham
Scarcely a tear to shed Hardly a word to say The end of a Summer's day Sweet Love is dead.
William Allingham
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
William Allingham
I believe in Success, And in Comfort no less I believe all the rest is but patter.
William Allingham
Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring Lies open, writ in blossoms.
William Allingham
Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waterswide.
William Allingham
Before a day was over, Home comes the rover, For mother's kiss - sweeter this Than any other thing!
William Allingham
Fairies, arouse! Mix with your song Harplet and pipe, Thrilling and clear, Swarm on the boughs! Chant in a throng! Morning is ripe, Waiting to hear.
William Allingham
She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
William Allingham
Does not the latent feeling that much of their striving is to no purpose tend to infuse large quantities of sham into men's work?
William Allingham
Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure We know the good time is yet to come.... Bare twigs in Autumn are signs for sadness We feel the good time is well-nigh past.
William Allingham
Sin we have explain'd away Unluckily, the sinners stay.
William Allingham
Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across, And the elm-tree for our king!
William Allingham
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes, Or grim wide wave and now the power is felt Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods Than any joy indulgent Summer dealt.
William Allingham
Politeness costs nothing. Nothing, that is, to him that shows it but if often costs the world very dear.
William Allingham
Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!
William Allingham
