Samuel Rogers

The Good are better made by Ill,
As odours crushed are sweeter still.

The Good are better made by Ill,
As odours crushed are sweeter still.

Timid dogs more eagerly bark than bite.

Timid dogs more eagerly bark than bite.

I lived to write, and wrote to live

I lived to write, and wrote to live

Long on the wave reflected lustres play.

Long on the wave reflected lustres play.

I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray
Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry,
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I am in Rome! Oft as the morning ray
Visits these eyes, waking at once I cry,
Whence this excess of joy? What has befallen me?
And from within a thrilling voice replies,
Thou art in Rome! A thousand busy thoughts
Rush on my mind, a thousand images;
And I spring up as girt to run a race!