The Oxford Dictionary of Quotations Preface

Eternal Passion!
Eternal Pain!
‘Philomela’ l. 31
Cruel, but composed and bland,
Dumb, inscrutable and grand,
So Tiberius might have sat,
Had Tiberius been a cat.
‘Poor Matthias’ (1885) l. 40
Her cabined ample Spirit,
It fluttered and failed for breath.
To-night it doth inherit
The vasty hall of death.
‘Requiescat’ (1853)
Not deep the Poet sees, but wide.
‘Resignation’ (1849) l. 214
Yet they, believe me, who await
No gifts from chance, have conquered fate.
‘Resignation’ (1849) l. 247
Not milder is the general lot
Because our spirits have forgot,
In action’s dizzying eddy whirled,
The something that infects the world.
‘Resignation’ (1849) l. 247
Coldly, sadly descends
The autumn evening. The Field
Strewn with its dank yellow drifts
Of withered leaves, and the elms,
Fade into dimness apace,
Silent;—hardly a shout
From a few boys late at their play!
‘Rugby Chapel, November 1857’
Go, for they call you, Shepherd, from the hill.
‘The Scholar-Gipsy’ (1853) l. 1
All the live murmur of a summer’s day.
‘The Scholar-Gipsy’ (1853) l. 20
Tired of knocking at Preferment’s door.
‘The Scholar-Gipsy’ (1853) l. 35
Crossing the stripling Thames at Bab-lock-hithe,
Trailing in the cool stream thy fingers wet,
As the slow punt swings round.