Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer

He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
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He who writes prose builds his temple to Fame in rubble; he who
writes verses builds it in granite.
- Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwer-Lytton, first Baron Lytton,

Come, Death, and snatch me from disgrace.

Come, Death, and snatch me from disgrace.

Dear Land to which Desire forever flees;
Time doth no present to our grasp allow,
Say in read more

Dear Land to which Desire forever flees;
Time doth no present to our grasp allow,
Say in the fixed Eternal shall we seize
At last the fleeting Now?

Laws die, Books never.

Laws die, Books never.

I am as one who is left alone at a banquet, the lights dead and
the flowers faded.

I am as one who is left alone at a banquet, the lights dead and
the flowers faded.