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Soul's Castle fell at one blast of temptation, But many a worm had pierced the foundation.
William Allingham
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William Allingham
Age: 65 †
Born: 1824
Born: March 19
Died: 1889
Died: November 18
Poet
Writer
Fell
Temptation
Foundation
Pierced
Soul
Castle
Many
Worm
Castles
Blast
Worms
More quotes by William Allingham
Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!
William Allingham
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
A man who keeps a diary pays, Due toll to many tedious days But life becomes eventful—then, His busy hand forgets the pen. Most books, indeed, are records less Of fulness than of emptiness.
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Writing is learning to say nothing, more cleverly every day.
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Pluck not the wayside flower It is the traveler's dower.
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Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!
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Before a day was over, Home comes the rover, For mother's kiss - sweeter this Than any other thing!
William Allingham
History of Ireland--lawlessness and turbulency, robbery and oppression, hatred and revenge, blind selfishness everywhere--no principle, no heroism. What can be done with it?
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.
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One who can see without seeming to see-- That's an observer as good as three.
William Allingham
She danced a jig, she sung a song that took my heart away.
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Autumn's the mellow time.
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Winds and waters keepA hush more dead than any sleep.
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Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad.
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Sin we have explain'd away Unluckily, the sinners stay.
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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!
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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!.
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The mother's kiss is the sweetest thing ever.
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
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